LIBRARY 


OF  THE 


UNIVERSITY  Of  NORTH  CAROLINA, 

Endowed  by  the  Dialectic  and   Philantnropic  Societies. 

Call  No.   el's        «—  O^^o 


c 


/^^ 


00006794098 


This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO  WEEKS 
ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine  of  FIVE  CENTS 
a  day  thereafter.  It  was  taken  out  on  the  day 
indicated  below: 


r 


One  of  the  Wonders  of  the  Acje  ; 


OR, 


THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES 


OF 


WAKE  COUNTY,  NORTH  CAEOLINA, 

WRITTEN    BY    HIMSELF,    AT     THE     SOLICITATION   OF    FRIENDS,   AND    FOR 
THE  BENEFIT    OF    ALL    WHO    READ  IT, 

—  WITH    SUPPLEMENT — 

B'y  HIS  sonsr,  hc.  o.  olive. 


RALEIGH  : 

Edwards,  Broughton  &    Co.,   Power    Printers  and  Binders. 

i886. 


PREFACE. 


Soon  after  father's  recovery  from  the  deep  affliction 
of  soul  through  which  he  passed,  many  of  ins  friends 
and  acquaintances  were  anxious  to  hear  his  account  of 
these  sore  trials. 

The  movings  of  his  mind  were  so  clearly  marked 
through  this  period  that  he  found   no  difficulty  in  re- 
, tracing  his  steps  even  to  the  minutest  events. 

Regarding  this  affliction  as  a  providence  of  God,  he 
ever  spoke  of  this  period  with  deep  interest  and  cheer-, 
fulness;  feeling  that  that  whereunto  it  had  been  sent 
had  been  accomplished.  To  make  his  own  life  and 
experience  too  prominent  in  his  ministry  he  felt  would 
be  wrong.  It  was  right  that  he  should  draw  from  the 
lessons  he  had  learned,  yet  his  duty  was  to  preach 
Christ  and  not  himself.  Constant  enquiry  after  inci- 
dents of  his  life,  especially  the  five  years  of  complete 
silence  from  the  ministry,  wherein  he  now  felt  tha-t 
God  in  His  mercy  had  led  him,  and  the  frequent  re- 
quest that  FTe  should  leave  a  record  of  these  mysterious 
^lealings  of  the  Lord,  as  he  esteemed  them  to  be,  brought 
him  to  the  consideration  of  writing  his  own  life.     He 


4  Preface. 

submitted  his  purpose  to  a  number  of  friends  and 
brethren,  all  of  whom  enoouraged  him  in  his  intended 
undertaking. 

Accordingly,  in  1866,  he  began  the  writings  which 
have  led  to  the  volume  you  now  hold  in  your  hands. 
It  was  his  purpose  to  complete  the  work  and  have  it 
published  during  the  few  years  to  follow.  As  he  ap- 
proached the  period  of  his  then  present  existence,  where 
his  work  was  to  end,  he  made  some  investigations  as 
to  the  cost  of  publication.  The  cost  was  at  this  time 
so  great,  and  financial  depression  among  his  friends 
and  acquaintances  so  wide  spread,  that  his  limited 
means  would  not  justify  the  publication.  He  expressed 
the  desire,  however,  if  not  done  before,  that  after  his 
decease  his  family  should  have  the  work  completed 
and  published,  not  that  he  desired  especially  for  his 
memory  to  be  perpetuated  in  the  world  by  books  tind 
records,  but  feeling  that  the  struggles  he  made  in  youth 
to  fit  himself  for  the  great  duties  of  life  might  be  a 
stimulant  to  others  of  like  surroundings.  That  his  re- 
ligious impressions  and  his  actions  towards  them 
might  be  a  guide  to  some  soul  when  his  voice  should 
be  forever  silenced.  That  his  ministerial  life  from 
his  first  impressions  to  exercise  in  public  to  its  close 
might  give  some  light  to  others  who  may  ibllow.  And 
that  the  fiery  trials  and  deep  aflBictions  which  came 
over  his  soul,  staid  only  by  God's  curbing  hand,  might 


Preface.  5 

ever  stand  out  as  a  monument  of  his  love  and  tender 
mercy  towards  those  who  love  and  fear  him.  These 
were  the  hopes  that  led  to  the  undertaking.  That 
part  of  the  work  written  hy  father  goes  to  the  press  in 
his  own  style  and  language.  This  will  be  readily  re- 
cognized by  all  W'ho  knew  him,  and  comprises  about 
three-fourths  of  the  work. 

We  ask  that  the  reader  will  not  censure  us  for  the 
chapter  on  the  family  history,  as  the  design  is  to  take 
this  occasion  to  preserve  the  substantial  facts  we  have 
gathered  of  the  family  from  which  the  subject  of  this 
work  sprang. 

The  task  of  completing  this  biography  has  been  as- 
signed to  myself,  believing  that  my  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  his  life  from  the  time  he  ceased  to  write  to 
the  day  of  his  death  gives  advantages  both  necessary 
and  desirable  to  the  accomplishment  of  this  work.  In 
undertaking  this  I  desire  to  state  what  I  know,  and 
what  I  believe  from  the  best  authority  to  have  been 
true.  At  the  time  father  returned  to  the  ministry  I 
had  reached  that  age  when  the  parent  centers  much 
interest  in  the  child.  Being  the  oldest  then  living,  the 
social  relation  existing  between  father  and  myself  was 
very  intima!e.  He  talked  freely  with  me  upon  many 
subjects  ;  much  of  what  I  write  was  drawn  from  these 
interviews.  It  is  hoped  that  this  little  volume,  though 
not  sufficient  to  withstand  harsh  criticism,  may  con- 


6  Preface. 

tribute  something  to  the  great  cause  in  which  father 
spent  his  life;  that  it  may  tend  to  inspire  all  who  read 
it  to  purer  and  holier  lives  and  that  not  one  soul  who 
peruses  it  may  ever  be  lost.  And  that  it  may  espe- 
cially prove  a  refreshing  shower  of  grace,  through  the 
Holy  Spirit,  to  the  exhortations  and  warnings  he  so 
faithfully  delivered  while  here  in  the  flesh  to  all  who 
heard  them,  and  that  the  Holy  Spirit  may  ever  guide 
the  heart  of  the  reader  as  he  peruses  Hi  pages. 

H.  C.  OLIVE. 
Apex,  N.  C,  August  1st,  1886. 


THE  OLIVE  FAMILY. 


PARENTAL   ANCESTORS    OF   JOHNSON    OLIVE. 

The  limited  knowledgeof  ancestors,  possessed  by  very 
many  persons  with  whom  we  have  met,  has  led  the 
writer  to  treasure  up  from  youth  some  leading  facts 
connected  with  the  Olive  family  in  America. 

It  was  not  expected  that  any  great  advantage  would 
accrue  to  any  one  from  this  undertaking.  Indeed,  it 
was  not  pursued  as  a  matter  of  profit  and  reward,  but 
as  a  subject  of  information  and  satisfaction. 

When  a  mere  child  I  often  visited  the  home  of  my 
grandma  Olive,  and  in  early  life  I  was  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  names  of  many  old  fields  and  sites 
where  houses  had  formerly  stood,  and  sometimes  small 
fields  then  in  cultivation  about  these  old  settlements, 
all  showing  that  several  generations  of  this  family 
had  lived  and  died  in  this  locality.  Numerous  were 
the  enquiries  put  to  my  grandma  and  my  uncle  Cal- 
vin Olive,  about  the  persons  who  had  formerly  lived 
at  these  places.  My  anxiety  thus  early  awakened 
was  not  abated  by  time.  As  I  grew  older  I  was  anx- 
ious to  learn  more  about  my  family.  I  sought  oc- 
casion to  enquire  of  some  of  the  oldest  persons  living 
in  the  community,  and  gather  up  such  information 
as  they  possessed.     Some  of  them  were  able  to  tell  me 


8  The  Life  and  Times 

the  name  of  the  first  Olive  who  came  to  the  United 
States,  and  many  other  facts  of  family  history  inter- 
esting to  me,  most  of  which  had  been  substantiated 
by  other  witnesses.  In  substance,  they  all  agree  that 
there  is  only  one  family  of  Olives  in  America;  that 
this  family  is  one  of  Engiish  descent ;  that  James 
Olive  was  the  first  of  this  family  to  cross  the  Atlantic 
and  plant  the  Olive  branch  in  the  United  States ;  that 
he  was  a  bound  boy  in  England,  and  must  have  been 
born  about  1720  or  1725.  In  early  youtli  he  became 
tired  of  the  restraints  placed  upon  him,  and  hearing 
of  the  new  world,  the  genial  clime,  and  the  great  lib 
erty  enjoyed  by  its  citizens,  he  resolved  to  come  to  the 
United  States.  He  accordingly  made  terms  with  the 
captain  of  a  vessel  soon  to  sail  for  America,  and  in  a 
short  time  he  was  on  board,  working  his  way  to  his 
intended  new  home. 

On  reaching  the  United  States  he  made  his  way  to 
what  is  now  Wake  County,  N.  C,  landing  here  about 
1740.  He  took  up  a  portion  of  land  and  made  a  tem- 
porary settlement  near  where  the  city  of  Raleigh  has 
since  been  located.  The  records  of  the  county  show  that 
soon  after  its  organization  the  names  of  some  of  his 
descendants  appear  as  land  owners  on  the  waters  of 
Crabtree  creek.  I  cannot  say,  however,  that  these 
lands  are  part  of  those  formerly  owned  by  James 
Olive.  His  direct  location  is  thought  to  have  included 
a  part  of  the  present  site  of  the  city  of  Raleigh.  After 
remaining  here  for  awhile,  he  moved  to  the  western 
part  of  the  county,  and  made  a  permanent  settlement 
near  the  line  dividing  Wake  and  Chatham  counties. 


OF  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  9 

some  two  miles  west  of  the  present  village  of  New 
Hill.  Here  he  married  and  devoted  his  time  to  his 
chosen  occupation  for  life,  that  of  farming  and  stock 
raising.  He  is  described  as  a  stout,  strong,  healthy 
man,  of  good  height.  Possessed  of  a  strong  will,  much 
industry  and  thrift,  he  was  soon  in  possession  of  a 
large  body  of  lands  in  that  section  of  the  county  of 
Wake.  He  was  no  less  blessed  in  his  marriage  rela- 
laiions.  Seven  sons  and  one  or  more  daughters  were 
added  to  his  family.  These  all  grew  up  to  manhood 
and  womanhood,  and  lived  to  a  good  old  age.  F,ot 
robust'health  and  physical  manhood  thisfamily  of  boys 
is  seldom  surpassed — stout,  healthy  and  active.  They 
were  all  possessed  of  fair  mental  capacity.  Some  of 
them  became  distinguished  for  their  intellectual  at- 
tainments. They  only  had  such  education  as  the 
times  in  which  the}^  lived  offered  to  c()Untry  boys. 
They  did  not  seek  fame  or  distinction,  and  living  at  a 
time  when  the  printing  press  was  costly,  and  but  lit- 
tle in  use,  no  printed  record  is  left  of  any  of  them, 
yet  we  are  led  to  conclude  from  the  impress  left  upon 
tl)ose  who  knew  them  that  they  were  men  whose  char- 
acters were  strongly  marked,  and  that  they  were 
among  the  foremost  men  of  their  day  with  the  early 
settlers  and  planters  of  their  section.  These  seven 
sons  were  living  in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  Some  persons  now  living  have  seen  most  of 
them  ;  others  tell  many  things  about  them  that  have 
been  handed  down  to  them  by  their  parents.  At  the 
outbreak  of  the  American  revolution  some  of  these  boys 
were  of  age,  and  took  part  with  the   United  States  in 


10  The  Life  and  Times 

her  battles  for  independence.  Toward  the  close  of  the 
eighteenth  century  James  Olive,  the  father,  died  at  his 
family  residence,  and  was  buried  upon  the  premises, 
where  it  is  thought  his  grave  can  now  be  distin- 
guished. His  wife  survived  him  many  years,  and  so 
distinguished  herself  by  her  kindness  to  all  with 
whom  she  met,  (and  especially  the  poor,  the  sick,  the 
needy  and  afflicted)  that  the  name  of  "  Granny  Olive  " 
long  lived  in  the  hearts  of  her  neighbors.  She  must 
have  lived  to  near  a  hundred  years  of  age.  The 
names  of  the  seven  sons  were  William,  Abel,  Jesse, 
James,  Anthony,  John  and  Southard.  For  some 
time  they  all  lived  in  their  native  county,  and  the  ad- 
joining county  of  Chatham. 

After  a  time  Abel  and  Anthony  moved  westward, 
and  from  these,  with  a  few  other  members  of  the 
family  who  have  since  gone  westward,  has  the  Olive 
family  spread  through  Tennessee,  Arkansas,  Missis- 
sippi, Alabama,  Texas,  and  other  Western  and  South 
ern  States.  Abel  was  a  professed  minister  of  the  gos- 
.pel  of  much  influence  and  ability.  According  to  a 
custom  of  his  day  he  was  on  several  occasions  drawn 
into  public  discussions  with  other  divines  upon  re- 
ligious subjects.  In  some  of  these  discussions  he 
greatly  distingjuished  himself. 

The  five  other  sons  made  permanent  settlements  in 
their  adopted  sections.  They  all  devoted  their  time 
principally  to  farming  and  raising  stock,  which  latter 
business  was  quite  profitable  in  those  days,  as  abund- 
ant range  could  be  had.  They  all  attained  to  a  fair 
degree  of  success  in  their  struggles  for  existence.    All 


OF  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  11 

were  blessed  with  a  large  family  of  children,  usually 
numbering  from  six  to  ten.  Indeed,  a  few  statistics 
would  show  that  the  family  has  been  wonderfully 
fruitful  since  their  settlement  on  this  side  of  the  At- 
lantic. 

With  only  James  Olive  to  begin  with  in  1740,  at 
the  close  of  that,  the  eighteenth  century,  when  the 
family  had  only  been  in  America  sixty  years,  they 
numbered  near  one  hundred  souls.  Tliey  have  now 
been  in  the  United  Slates  about  one  hundred  and  forty- 
five  years.  They  have  scattered  throughout'  many 
States  of  the  Union  mostly  to  the  South  and  West. 

It  is  reasonable  to  estimate  that  no  less  than  ten 
thousand  souls  have  been  born  on  this  continent  with 
the  blood  of  James  Olive  flowing  in  their  veins.  This 
seems  incredible  in  so  short  a  time,  beginning  with 
James  Olive  in  1740,  and  in  1886 — one  hundred  and 
foriy-six  years  later — counting  ten  thousand  offsi)ring. 
We  estimate  that  no  less  than  one  thousand  and  five 
hundred  of  his  posterity  are  now  living  in  the  United 
States.  So  numerous  are  the  different  branches  of  this 
family  springing  from  William,  Abel,  Anthony,  James, 
Jesse,  John  and  Southard  that  time  and  space  w.ll  not 
permit  us  to  pursue  them  all.  We  will  therefore  confioe 
ourselves  to  the  dirpct  ancestors  of  the  subject  of  this 
work,  with  such  general  statements  at  the  close  of  this 
chapter  as  we  may  deem  apf)ropriate.  We  have  be 
fore  stated  that  the  name  of  one  of  the  seven  sons  of 
James  Olive,  Sr.,  was  John.  Soon  after  the  close  of 
the  American  revolution,  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
he   married    a  Miss   Partridge   and   settled    in    Wake 


12  The  Life  and  Times 

count}^  near  tlie  old  homestead  of  his  father.  He  was 
a  farmer  by  occupation,  and  twice  married.  In  all  he 
had  twelve  children,  Burrell  and  Rachel  by  his  first 
wife,  and  John,  Michael,  Berry,  Green,  Gray,  Bennett, 
Briiikley,  Sallie,  Frankie  and  Nancy  by  his  second, 
whose  maden  name  was  Womble.  During,  the  early 
part  of  the  nineteenth  century  Burrell  Olive,  the  eldest 
son  of  John,  married  a  Miss  Polly  Johnson,  daughter 
of  John  Johnson,  who  had  recently  moved  from  North- 
am[)ton  county,  N.  C,  and  settled  in  Chatham  county, 
only  a  short  distance  from  the  settlement  of  the  Olive 
family  in  Wake  county. 

Burrell  Oiive  and  wife  settled  U[)on  a  farm  within  a 
short  distance  of  their  parents,  in  the  county  of  Chat- 
ham, about  one  mile  from  tfie  Wake  line.  Tiieir 
second  child  was  a  son  to  whom  the}'  gave  the  name 
Johnson,  in  honor  of  his  mother's  maiden  name.  Bur- 
rell Olive  was  a  modest, unassuming  man.  He  acquired 
a  fair  education  for  one  of  his  day  ;  s}>ecimens  of  his 
writing  now  in  existence  show  him  to  have  been  a 
man  of  good  intellect.  He  did  not  aspire  to  fame,  but 
became  a  successful  farmer  and  useful  and  substantial 
citizen.  His  height  was  about  five  feet  ten  inches, 
weight  one  iiundred  and  forty-five  pounds. 

His  wife,  the  mother  of  Johnson  Olive,  was  a  quiet, 
self  possessed  lady,  industrious,  sprightly  and  active, 
free  from  craft  or  cunning,  yet  moved  about  much 
without  being  observed.  She  was  of  small  size,  usually 
weighing  from  one  hundred  and  ten  to  one  hundred 
and  fifteen  pounds;  possessed  of  much  native  intellect. 

Johnson  Olive  inherited  much  of  the  characteristics 


OF  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  13 

of  liis  maternal  ancestors.  His  head,  his  nose,  his 
cheeks,  resembled  his  paternal  anr.estors,  and  in  other 
particulars  he  was  like  tliem. 

The  Johnsons  were  a  jovial,  active  people,  full  of 
life  and  fun,  great  talkers,  and  very  much  enjoyed  a 
hearty  laugh.  Most  of  them  were  j)assionately  fond 
of  children,  and  often  kept  the  child  in  a  strait  be- 
tween teasing  and  caressing.  They  were  quick- 
tempered, not  ill,  rather  friendly,  but  violent  when 
aroused.  As  a  family  they  were  the  greatest  lovers  of 
fisli  I  ever  saw.  In  this  particular  father  was  all 
Johnson. 

We  have  sometimes  attributed  the  love  of  the  tinny 
tribe  in  this  family  to  the  fact  that  they  had  emi- 
grated from  a  county  bordering  Uf)on  splendid  fisheries, 
and  that  this  appetite  had  become  to  some  extent  con- 
stitutional. 

The  Olives  have  usually  been  an  honest,  industrious 
people;  farming  has  been  their  favorite  pursuit;  very 
few  of  this  large  family  have  ever  sought  worldly 
honors.  One  definiiion  of  the  name  is  "emblem  of 
[)eace."  They  have  usually  been  advocates  of  peace 
and  order,  and  are  ever  quick  to  resent  oppression  and 
wrong. 

From  their  firat  settlement  in  this  country  they  have 
manifested  a  great  fancy  for  stock  raising.  The  horse, 
cow,  sheep  and  hog  have  received  a  good  share  of  atten- 
tion from  many  of  them.  They  seldom  fail  to  store 
away  a  good  share  of  home-made  pork. 

While  they  are  a  modest  and  unassuming  people, 
they  always  inherit  a  good  degree  of  will  power,  and 


H  The  Life  and  Times 

when  once  settled  in  their  opinions,  are  not  easily 
moved.  Liberty  aod  freedom  are  favored  terms  with 
them. 

This  family  has  not  been  without  its  Absaloms. 
The  wayward  ones,  however,  have  not  been  inclined 
to  malicious  practices,  but  rather  to  mischief  and 
merriment. 

Notwithstanding  tiie  great  number  born  in  this 
country,  the  penalties  of  the  criminal  laws  have  not 
been  heard  against  any  of  them.  Very  few,  only,  have  at- 
tained to  great  wealth.  They  have  been  among  the 
common,  well-to-do  citizens  of  this  country.  All  have 
not  been  professed  christians,  yet  the  Church  of  God 
on  earth  has  had  many  v/arm  advocates  in  this  family. 

Becoming  satisfied  years  ago  that  the  tradition 
handed  down  by  our  parents  and  family  acquaintances 
as  to  our  family  history  was  correct,  we  have  been  lead 
recently  to  make  more  thorough  inquiry  into  some  of 
the  facts. 

Some  six  years  ago  we  learnerl  from  a  man  who 
claimed  to  be  a  sailor  that  he  had  seen  the  name  of 
Olive  in  London,  England,  whence  tradition  says  we 
came.  He  stated  he  saw  this  name  upon  a  signboard 
over  a  store  door,  in  one  of  tlie  streets  of  London,  and 
that  he  had  never  seen  the  name  elsewhere.  This 
strengthened  the  account  we  already  had.  Accord- 
ingly, in  the  early  part  of  this  year,  we  addressed  a 
letter  to  the  editor  of  the  Spectator,  London,  asking  for 
the  address  of  any  persons  in  his  country  by  the  name 
of  Olive.  lv\  about  three  weeks  his  answer  returned, 
giving  the  names  of  Henry  Olive,  John  Bone  Olive, 


OF  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  15 

and  John  Joseph  Olive,  all  living  in  London.  This 
led  to  a  correspondence  between  myself  and  some  of 
the  parties.     I  here  give  their  reply  : 

Grafton  House, 
Grafton  Street,  Fitzroy  Square, 
London,  England,  May,  1886. 

Dear  Sir  :— We  received  both  your  Tetters.  The  first  was 
directed  to  my  son,  who  will  get  what  information  he  can 
from  persons  whom  he  knows  bearing  our  name.  He  has 
been  too  busy  as  yet.  Being  the  only  one  of  my  family  alive, 
I  feel  tenderly  towards  my  relatives. 

The  earliest  knowledge  I  have   of  my  family  is  that   my 
grandmother,  a  widow,   Rose  Olive,  came  to  the  village  of 
Castle   Hedingham,   Essex,   a  widow,   with   two  boys.     The 
eldest,  my  uncle,   John  Thomas,  six  years  of  age,  the  other, 
my  father,  Joseph  Olive.     I  think  the  latter  must  have  been 
about  eight  years  old.     This  occurrence  took  place  about  the 
date  1800.     Both  of   these   boys  and  their  mother  are  now 
dead.     My  uncle,    John   Thomas,    was  band-master  of  Life 
Guards  and  Seventh  Hussars,  also  Queen's  Boys.    Afterwards 
a  publican  in  Ipswick,  Suffolk.  He  left  one  son,  now  seventy- 
five,  whom  I  have  seen.     He  knows  but  little  of  the  family. 
He  is  a  retired  publican  of  Peckham  Rye,  Surry.     When  a 
boy  he  remembers  riding  with  his  father  and  mine  to  Waltham 
Cross,  Essex,   where  lived  one  James  Olive,  a  carpenter — I 
suppose  a  relative,  but  I  had  never  heard  of  him  before.     I 
think  my  errandmother's  maiden  name  was  Atherton.     She 
died,  eighty-three,  in  the  village  where  she  had  long  resided. 
I  could  hear  nothing  beyond  that.     She  went  there  a  widow 
and  a  stranger.     She  was  good  looking — fair  and  tall.    When 
I  was  a  boy  the  directory  only  showed  a  Joseph  Olive,  a  solic- 
itor of  Lincoln's  Inn,   who  was  my  father.     Now  there  are 
only   about  six.     As  names   help,    I  may  tell  you  that  my 
cousin,  whom  I  stated  was  seventy-five  years  of  age,  is  named 


16  The  Life  and  Times 

Daniel  David  Olive.  He  has  a  son,  Daniel  Olive,  at  618  Ot- 
towa  street,  Leavenworth,  Kansas,  United  States.  He  went 
over  about  twenty  years  ago.  He  has  a  family.  So  you  see 
some  of  our  immediate  family  are  in  the  United  States.  A 
brother  of  Daniel  Olive  was  twenty  years  in  the  American 
mercantile  service,  under  the  name  of  Morton,  His  family 
are  mostly  travelers.  Another  brother  of  his  has  been  to  In- 
dia as  a  soldier,  and  is  now  a  publican  here.  Others  of  this 
family — Charles  and^  Alice — are  now  at  or  near  Queensland. 
I  had  one  sister,  Armelia,  and  two  brothers,  James  and  Wil- 
♦liam,  all  of  whom  died  young.  1  am  now  sixty-five  years  of 
age,  and  by  trade  a  wood  turner.  The  house  to  which  you 
direct  is  mine.  Being  a  largo  doable  house  there  are  two 
rooms,  one  for  my  own  trade,  the  other  a  stationery,  book 
and  music  sellers,  managed  by  two  of  my  daughters. 

My  son,  John  Joseph  Olive,  has  a  similar  business  to  the 
latter  in  London,  in  Kentish  Town  Road.  I  have  one  son  and 
three  daughters;  son  the  eldest  thirty-eight  years;  youngest 
daughter  thirty.  I  weigh  eleven  stone,  my  son  the  same. 
My  youngest  daughter  is  tall^the  other  two  of  medium  height. 
Our  family  are  well  built  and  rather  fair...  I  belong  to  the 
church  of  England,  where  myself  and  family  attend  every 
Sunday.  I  treat  myself  to  a  nonconformist  place  of  worship 
about  four  times  a  year.  All  are  the  same  to  me  if  they  are 
traveling  heavenward.  It  has  been  a  puzzle  to  us  to  know 
whether  it  is  a  lady  or  gentleman  writing  to  us.  My  second 
daughter's  name  is  Clara  Hannah,  the  same  initials  as  yours, 
but  reversed  in  order.  She  is  a  certificated  head  teacher  of  a 
large  London  board  school.  With  kind  regards  and  well 
wishes  to  yourself  and  all  the  Olives  who  support  the  name  so 
honorably,  believe  me  to  be  yours  truly, 

John  Bone  Olive. 

My  daughter  Clara  sends  you  her  plioto.  with  mine,  hoping  to 
have  a  return  of  yours  and  others  of  the  family. 

Yours  truly,  ,  J.  B.  Olive. 


OF  Rev.  Johnson   Olive.  17 

This  is  the  first  and  only  account  we  know  anything 
of  from  the  family  in  England  since  the  days  of  James 
Olive,  Sr.     We  had  never  heard  anything  of  their  cir- 
cumstances or  numbers.     To  us  it  is  conclusive  that 
this  family  and  the  American   family   are  one.     The 
average  of  human  life  being  put  at  thirty-three  years, 
it  is  about  four  and  a  half  generations  back   to  the 
point   of  separation.     This   appears    to   be    the    only 
family  of  this  name,  of  which  the  parties  have  any  ac- 
count in  England.     They  are  one  in  that  country,  and 
the   present  family   were  there  during  the  eighteenth 
century,  and  we  may  reasonably  say  were  there  at  the 
time  of  the  departure  of  James  Olive,  our  great  ances- 
tor in  the  United  States.     The  family  names  kept  up 
in  both  countries  would    be  another  indication  point- 
ing to  the  identity  of  the  two  families,  James,  John, 
William,  Joseph,   Daniel   and   David    have  all   been 
favorite  names  with  the  American  famJy.     Then  we 
may  justly  conclude  that  our  family  tradition  as  to  its 
history,  in  the  main  has  been  true.     Where  they  first 
received  the  name  Olive,  and  under  what  circumstan- 
ces, I  have  no  means  of  knowing.     Let  us  hope  they 
received  this  title  during  the  early  political  and  social 
commotions  of  England  by  their^ gentle  but  firm  course 
and  strong  advocacy  of  peace  and  order.     Be  this  as  it 
may,  let  us  seek  to  follow  Him  who  come  tobring  peace 
and  good  will  on  earth  ;  and  ever  be  found  among  the 
wise,  the  peaceful,  the  prudent  of  this  earth,  and  after 
death   to  form   one  common   family  in  a  land  where 
peace  shall  ever  abide. 

H.  C.  OLIVE. 


THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES 

OF 

Rev.   JOHNSON    OLIVE. 


CHAPTER  I.   i^ 


I  was  born  and  raised  in  the  county  of  Chatham, 
State  of  North  Carolina.  My  parents  were  poor,  but 
honest  and  industrious.  They  had  eight  children, 
four  sons  and  four  daughters.  I  was  next  to  the  oldest 
child  ;  my  birth  took  place  June  the  7th,  A.  D.  1816. 
My  father  had  a  small  farm  on  which  he  labored,  to 
gain  a  living  for  himself  and  family.  I,  being  the 
first  son,  was  taught  to  assist  my  father  in  cultivating 
his  farm  at  a  very  early  age,  in  the  best  manner  that 
I  was  able.  1  had  several  uncles,  brothers  to  my 
parents,  who  lived  near  by,  and  by  them  I  was  petted, 
and  made  to  believe  that  I  was  as  smart  as  any  boy  of 
my  age.  I  would  do  any  thing  that  was  in  my  power 
if  they  requested  it.  I  always  felt  pleasant  and  safe 
when  in  their  presence.  My  attachment  towards  them 
became  as  strong   as  life. 

"I  love  them  all  with  a  free  good  will, 
And  upon  my  honor  I  love  them  still." 


20  The  Life  and  Times 

At  five  or  six  years  of  age  my  parents  started  me  to 
school.  The  custom  of  the  neighborhood  at  that  time 
was  to  have  a  school  three  months  in  the  fall  of  each 
year,  spelling,  reading,  writing,  and  the  first  or 
primary  principles  of  arithmetic  were  the  sciences 
taught.  I  soon  became  attached  to  the  school.  I  loved 
my  teacher,  and  he  taught  me  to  endeavor  to  excel 
the  other  boys  of  my  age.  This  made  me  feel  a  little 
vain,  but  I  generall}^  succeeded  in  standing  at  the 
head  of  my  class.  At  the  age  of  eight  or  ten  years  I 
was  looked  upon  by  those  who  knew  me  best  as  being 
very  smart,  and  exhibiting  some  signs  of  more  than 
ordinary  intellect.  However  this  might  have  been,  I 
am  sure  they  acted  very  imprudently  in  speaking  of 
it  as  they  did  in  my  presence.  It  did  me  no  good 
then,  and  I  have  sometimes  felt  that  it  has  injured  me 
since. 

When  about  twelve  years  of  age  my  health  failed, 
not  by  any  violent  disease,  but  I  lingered  into  a  feeble 
and  sickly  condition  ;  my  energy  and  courage  became 
considerably  abated.  M}^  keen  and  penetrating  eyes, 
of  which  my  friends  and  relatives  had  so  often  with 
admiration  spoken  in  my  hearing,  now  became  dull 
and  languid.  My  cheeks  were  pale  and  swarthy,  and 
my  voice  was  no  longer  cheerful  as  it  had  formerly 
been.  I  continued  in  this  debilitated  state  of  health 
for  several  years,  never  confined,  but  always  delicate 
and  feeble.  I  could  generally  follow  the  plough  and 
assist  in  cultivating  the  farm,  and  in  the  fall  season  go 
to  school,  but  all  the  time  regretting  that  I  could  not 
feel  and  appear  like  other  boys  who  w^ere  in  the  en- 


OF  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  21 

joyment  of  good  health.    Notwithstanding  the  feeble 
and  dormant  state  of  my  constitution,  there  was  a  vein 
of  native  humor  flowing  from  ray  heart,  and  revealing 
itself  in  my   life  and  conversation  sufficient  to  attract 
attention  and  make  my   company  agreeable  to  other 
boys.     It  was  customary  for  the  boys  in  the  neighbor- 
hood where  I  lived  to  meet  together  on  the  Sabbath 
and  amuse  themselves  in  playing  at  ball   and  base, 
and   some  other  games  of  youthful  sport,  and   after 
a  while  they  would  spend  a   portion  of  that  holy  day 
in    hunting  game  with  their  dogs;  none  of  us  were 
allowed  to  carry  a  gun.     I  became  very  much  attached 
to  this  snort  and  would  join  them  as  often  as  I  could  ; 
being  quite  small  and  light,  and  always  fond  of  climb- 
ing trees,  I  had  become  quite  expert  in  that  business, 
so  that  I  was  selected  by  general  consent  to  climb  trees 
after  squirrels  whiletlieother  boys  would  stand  around 
with  dogs  and  sticks  to  secure  the  game  whenever  he 
should  spring  from  the  tree  ;  in  this  way  we  often  suc- 
ceeded in  taking  those  nimble  animals.     I  have  often 
regretted    that  I  and  the  boys  of   the    neighborhood 
were  suffered  to  follow  this  dangerous  sport,  and  that 
on"  the  Sabbath  da3^thus  making  it  sinful  as  well  as 
dangerous;  but  I  might  remark  here,  that  religion  at 
that  period  was  at  a  very  low  ebb  in  the  section  of 
country  where  I  was  born.     There  were  but  few  heads 
of  families  who  were  members  of  the  church,  and  very 
few   young  persons  who  made  any  pretensions  to  re- 
ligion.    There  was  but  little  open   profanity  among 
the  people  of  that  neighborhood,  and    as  a  general 
thing  they  were  an  honest,  industrious,  and  moral  com- 


22  The  Life  and  Times 

munity.  The  nearest  church  was  some  four  or  five 
miles  distant ;  my  parents  as  well  as  many  others  gen- 
erally  attended  preaching  once  a  month,  and  in  justice 
to  our  parents,  I  might  say  they  did  not  approve  of 
the  course  which  their  children  pursued  in  the  sporls 
above  named,  but  being  indulgent  they  did  not  posi- 
tively forbid  it.  Thus  were  spent  several  years  of  my 
youthful  life,  my  health  continuing  to  be  feeble,  and 
my  growth  scarcely  perceptible.  My  two  oldest  sisters 
were  growing  up  to  maturity,  and  I  remaining  as  feeble 
and  dwarfish  in  appearance  as  ever.  My  sisters  were 
anxious  to  visit  and  be  in  company  with  young  peo- 
ple, and  especially  to  go  to  preaching,  and  they  wished 
me  to  go  with  them.  I  had  no  inclination  to  go  with 
them  to  f)reaching,  for  it  did  not  suit  my  taste.  I  would 
rather  spend  the  Sabbath  with  ray  companions  in  the 
neighborhood. 

When  I  was  about  fifteen  years  of  age  I  was  pre- 
vailed on  by  my  mother  and  sisters  to  go  with  my 
sisters  to  a  camp-meeting,  and  as  some  of  our  relations 
were  to  tent  on  the  camp  grt/Und  we  were  to  stay  sev- 
eral days  if  w^e  wished  to  do  so  ;  and  as  an  inducement 
for  me  to  go  my  mother  got  me  a  new  suit  of  clothes, 
and  my  father  bought  me  a  new  fur  hat.  Tl:is  pleased 
me  very  much,  and  I  remember  after  having  dressed 
myself,  that  I  thought  all  would  do  very  well  except 
my  pale  face  and  swarthy  complexion.  This  I  could 
not  help  but  thought  it  spoiled  my  looks. 

I  have  no  distinct  recollection  that  I  had  ever  felt 
conviction  for  sin  up  to  this  time.  I  had  consented  to 
go  to  the  camp  meeting  to  gratify  my  sisters  and  pa- 


OF  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  23 

reuts,  and  if  Iliad  any  other  motive  in  view  I  think  it 
v^s  to  see  and  hear  what  would  be  going  on.  I  had 
no  idea  of  doing  any  mischief  or  of  interfering  with 
the  meeting  in  any  wa}^  but  if  any  thought  of  seek- 
ing religion  came  into  my  mind  I  have  no  recollec- 
tion. 

We  went  to  the  meeting,  and  on  our  arriving  there, 
we  heard  the  noise  that  is  generally  heard  at  such 
meetings,  especially  when  the  work  of  the  Lord  seems 
to  be  prospering.  Some  were  singing,  some  were 
mourning,  and  others  praying.  I  was  anxious  to  draw 
nigh  in  order  that  I  might  see  what  was  going  on  in 
that  place  which  they  called  the  altar.  It  consisted  of 
poles  fastened  to  trees  in  the  grove,  or  on  posts  set  up 
for  the  purpose,  the  whole  forming  a  square,  or  an  ob- 
long square  with  seats  arranged  conveniently  for  the 
mourners  and  the  leading  and  active  members  of  the 
church,  so  that  the  penitents  might  receive  useful  in- 
struction on  the  subject  of  religion,  and  singing  and 
prayer  be  made  to  God  especially  for  them.  At  one 
end  of  the  altar  was  the  stand  or  platform,  to  be  occu- 
pied by  the  preachers.  At  the  close  of  a  sermon  an  in- 
vitation was  given  4)r  all  who  desired  religion,  and 
were  willing  to  manifest  the  same,  to  come  forward 
and  kneel  or  take  their  seats  in  the  altar.  On  this  oc- 
casion a  goodly  number  came  forward  of  both  sexes. 
Some  young  persons,  some  middle  aged  and  some  old. 
I  was  standing  near  the  altar,  I  think,  with  my  hand 
resting  on  the  railing.  An  aged  man,  whom  I  knew 
to  be  a  preacher,  came  down  from  the  stand  into  the 
altar  and  commenced  giving  instruction  to  the  mourri- 


24  The  Life  and  Times. 

ers.  His  words  were  well  chosen,  bis  voice  clear,  and 
his  manner  indicated  great  earnestness  and  desire  fo^ 
the  salvation  of  souls  He  encouraged  the  mourners 
to  persevere,  holding  up  to  them  the  invitations  and 
promises  of  the  scriptures.  After  having  gone  through 
this  part  of  his  labor,  be  raised  bis  bead  and  looked 
out  u})on  the  bystanders  and  outsiders,  and  in  the 
most  pathetic  and  affectionate  language  I  evf^r  beard, 
lie  exhorted  them  to  seek  religion.  He  held  up  a  cru- 
cified Redeemer  as  able  and  willing  to  save  to  the  ut- 
termost all  who  would  come  to  God  by  Him.  He 
dwelt  upon  the  danger  and  misery  of  sin,  upon  the 
advantages  and  peace  of  religion.  He  instanced  his 
own  experience,  saying,  "religion  has  been  my  sup- 
port amidst  all  the  storms  and  tempests  of  life."  He 
spoke  of  having  served  in  the  revolution  of  1776,  and 
of  the  troubles  and  trials  of  that  age,  and  of  the  sup- 
port which  he  bad  always  found  in  his  ever  present 
Friend. 

While  he  was  thus  exhorting  the  bystanders  and 
outsiders  I  thought  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  me,  at  least 
my  eyes  met  his,  and  such  a  look  I  had  never  seen  be- 
fore; his  eyes  spoke  to  my  mind  ^v'itb  more  force  than 
his  words  did  to  my  understanding.  I  felt  -that  I  was 
in  the  presence  of  a  good  and  pious  man  of  God.  In- 
deed it  appeared  to  me  as  if  his  heart  and  lips  had 
been  touched  with  hallowed  fire.  I  felt  as  I  had  never 
felt  before.  I  believed  what  the  man  of  God  had  said. 
I  felt  the  need  of  religion  and  thought  I  would  have 
given  any  thing  that  was  in  my  power  to  have  changed 
my  condition  for  that   of   the  good  old  man.     I  soon 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  25 

fouiid  myself  suffasod  in  tears,  and  my  heart  felt  as  if 
it  would  burst,  but  I  was  ashamed   to   be  seen  crying 
and  did  not  wish  that  any   person   should  understand 
my  condition.      I  wiped    my   eyes  and  turned   away 
from  a  scene   which   has   never  been   erased  from  my 
mind.     I  walked  several  hundred  yards  from  the  camp 
ground  in  serious  and  solitary  meditation.     I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  what  I  had  lelt  was  not  conviction 
for  sin  but  only   youthful   excitement,  and    my   tears 
were  only  childish  sympathy,  for  I  was  at  that  time  of 
the  opinion  if  a  person  was  truly  convicted  for  sin  he 
would  he  prostrated  and  helpless,  and   as  I   had   not 
been  deprived  of  the  us.e  of  my  f)hysical  powers,  there- 
fore I  was  not  convicted,  and  as  unreasonable  and  super- 
stitious as  this   may   appear,  there  are   now  a   great 
many  people  of  the  same  opinion.  I  would  here  warn 
all    young  people  to  guard   against   that   delusion  of 
Satan  and  never  quench  or  grieve  the  Spirit  in  convic- 
tion.    If  you  feel  tl)at  you  are  a  condemned  sinner  in 
-the  sight  of  God,  that  religion   is  necessary  in  order 
that  you  may  be  prepared  to  die  and  meet  your  Judge 
in  [)eace.  I  would  advise  you  by  all  means  not  to  delay 
your  return  to  God.     Wait  not  another  hour  for  more 
conviction,  for  Jesus  stands  ready  to  save  you,  full  of 
pity,  love  and  power. 

I  will  now  tell  you  how  I  acted,  and  the  bitter  con- 
sequences of  the  same. 

I  hearkened  to  the  voice  of  the  tempter,  who  said, 

time  enough  yet,  wait  till  you   are  older.     I  hardened 

my  heart  and  braced  myself  up  as  well  as  I  could  and 

started   back   to  the  encampment,  anxious  to  see  and 

2 


26  The  Life  and  Times  of 

hear  what  was  going  on  there,  but  having  no  desire  to 
become  affected  myself  or  to  take  any  interest  in  the 
meeting  further  than  an  outside  observer.  When  I 
drew  near  the  sacred  altar  of  prayer  and  praise  and 
heard  distinctly  the  different  voices  and  sounds  that 
are  usual  at  such  times  and  places,  some  mourning, 
some  rejoicing,  some  praying,  and  others  singing  or 
exhorting,  it  appeared  to  me  that  the  place  was  hal- 
lowed ground,  and  that  some  mysterious  power  filled 
the  atmosphere  like  an  enchantment  around  that  hal- 
lowed place.  I  felt  the  sacred  influences  so  forcibly 
upon  my  mind  that  my  heart  became  affected  so  that 
I  could  not  refrain  from  shedding  tears,  and  I  con- 
cluded that  rather  than  be  detected  by  my  fellow  be- 
ings in  this  thing,  I  would  remain  at  a  distance  from 
the  altar,  though  I  was  anxious  to  see  what  was  going 
on  there.  So  I  spent  the  greater  portion  of  the  time 
in  which  I  remained  on  the  camp  ground  in  the  out- 
skirts of  t^he  encampment,  with  many  thoughts  revolv- 
ing through  my  mind.  I  made  several  efforts  to  go 
near  the  altar  to  see  who  were  there  and  what  was  go- 
i.ig  on,  but  in  every  instance  as  I  drew  near  my  heart 
would  become  more  affected  and  I  turned  back.  All 
this  time  my  mind  was  in  darkness  on  all  religious 
subjects.  I  thought  true  conviction  consisted  in  being 
prostrated  by  some  irresistible  power,  so  that  a  person 
under  true  conviction  for  sin  would,  at  least  in  the 
commencement  of  his  conviction,  be  stricken  down 
like  Saul  of  Tarsus,  and  as  I  had  experienced  nothing 
of  that  nature  of  course  I  was  only  under  the  influ- 
ence of  some  sympathetic  feeling  or  some  animal  ex- 


Rkv.  Johnson  Olive.  27 

citement.  I  therefore  concluded  that  I  would  think 
as  little  about  the  subject  as  possible  till  I  could  leave 
the  meeting  and  return  home,  at  which  time  I  prom- 
ised myself,  or  rather  my  mind  promised  God,  that  I 
would  take  into  consideration  the  all-important  sub- 
ject of  religion,  and  if  I  should  become  convinced  that 
it  was  the  Spirit  of  God  that  was  o[)eraiing  upon  my 
mind,  and  thpt.  those  impressions  were  of  divine 
origin,  and  I  away  from  all  outside  influences,  I  would 
then  seek  religion  ^nd  call  upon  the  Lord  with  all  my 
heart.  After  I  had  made  this  vow  my  feelings  became 
more  calm,  but  I  did  not  venture  to  go  near  the  sacred 
altar,  for  fear  that  my  feelings  might  return  as  they 
had  done  before. 

I  will  here  offer  a  few  reflections  by  way  of  advice, 
before  I  tell  how  I  acted  in  reference  to  this  matter. 
On  reflection  I  have  long  since  been  convinced  that 
the  Spirit  of  God  came  at  that  lime  to  convince  me  uf 
sin,  of  righteousness,  and  of  judgment  to  come.  In 
plain  terms,  I  was  then  convicted,  felt  that  I  was  a  con- 
demned sinner,  unlit  to  live  or  die  in  peace,  believed 
it  to  be  my  duty  to  seek  God,  to  accept  of  the  terras  of 
reconcUiation,  to  repent  of  my  sins  and  believe  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  how  to  do  this  was  a  great  mys- 
tery to  me,  even  tliough  I  had  been  willing  to  humble 
myself  before  God  and  men.  I  was  filled  with  a  d-  - 
sire  of  doing  something,  but  knew  no't  as  yet  either  the 
end  or  beginning.  I  have  since  seen  that  I  was  then 
not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  there  appears 
to  have  been  but  one  step  between  me  and  religion, 
but  the  affections  of  my  heart  cleaved   to  the  world, 


28  The  Life  and  Times  of 

and  procrastination  plead  for  a  more  Convenient  sea- 
son. I  would  recommend  all  persons,  and  more  espe- 
cially the  young,  to  yield  to  the  first  impressions  of 
the  Spirit  of  God  on  the  heart,  and  never  to  quench 
its  sacred  influences  or  grieve  it  from  your  breast.  If 
you  do,  it  may  cost  you  many  bitter  tears  of  repent- 
ance, many  deep  regrets  and  peradventure  may  land 
your  soul  in  hell.  • 


CHAPTER  IL\/ 

I  will  now  tell  you  the  course  I  pursued.  I  returned 
home  with  my  vows  upon  me;  they  were  indelibl}^ 
impressed  on  my  mind  ;  I  could  not  blot  them  out. 
I  must  consider  the  subject  of  religion  while  following 
my  plow^  or  hoe,  which  was  my  usual  avocation  ;  the 
subject  would  come  up  fresh  in  my  mind  ;  I  would 
take  it  up  as  well  as  I  knew  how  ;  I  would  consider  it 
and  reconsider  it,  think  of  its  advantages  and  disad- 
vantages, and  somelimes  I  felt  that  I  would  rather  be 
a  christian  than  any  other  man.  I  sometimes  became 
so  raucl)  affected,  while  meditating  on  the  subject,  that 
I*  would  suddenly  leave  my  horse  and  plow  at  the 
end  of  a  row  go  to  the  woods  and  try  to  pray,  though 
it  generally  turned  out  that  I  had  great  difficulty  in 
finding  a  suitable  place  to  make  the  attempt.  On 
those  occasions  I  was  easily  frightened  or  excited,  the 
breaking  of  a  stick  under  my  feet,  or  the  sudden  flight 
of  a  bird,  would  often  frustrate  me  in  my   purpose  or 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  29 

design.  Sometimes,  however,  I  did  fall  upon  my  knees 
nnd  try  to  pray,  buj;  never  as  I  recollect  to  my  own 
liking  or  satisfaction,  for  indeed  I  felt  myself  to  be  a 
poor,  ignorant  sinner,  though  it  would  give  me  some 
momentary  relief  to  think  that  I  was  trying  to  fulfil 
my  vows.  My  mind  was  exercised  in  this  way  more 
or  less  for  several  months,  but  I  used  a  great  deal  of 
caution  about  it  for  fear  that  I  should  be  detected  by 
some  of  my  fellow  beings.  I  felt  that  T  must  keep  this 
a  profound  secret  from  all  persons,  and  my  anxiety  on 
this  subject  could  not  have  been  greater  if  I  had  stolen 
some  valuable  jewel. 

At  this  early  age  of  my  life  I  disapproved  of  all 
outside  appearances  and  more  especially  in  religious 
matters.  I  had  known  some  to  set  out  toseek  religion 
and  become  weary  and  turn  back  to  the  world  ;  others 
I  had  known  who  had  made  great  pretensions  in  reli- 
gion turn  out  badly.  I  thought  that  if  I  should  fail 
in  this  thing  I  would  rather  it  should  never  be  known. 
But  at  that  time  I  was  unconsciously  acting  out  the 
same  principle,  for  I  often  concealed  an  aching  heart 
by  a  smiling  face,  and  a  troubled  mind  by  a  cheerful 
laugh.  But  I  had  my  scripture  passages  for  secret 
prayer  and  for  alms  giving,  "when  ye  pray  enter  thy 
closet,"  &c.,  and  "  let  not  thy  left  hand  know  what 
thy  right  hand  doeth."  Thus  I  endeavored  to  conceal 
from  man  what  was  going  on  in  my  mind,  and  tried 
to  justify  my  course  in  my  own  estimation  by  scrip- 
ture testimony,  not  being  very  particular  in  regard  to 
its  true  interpretation.     I  could   not  have  been  more 


30  The  Life  and  Times  of 

careful  in  trying  to  keep  it  a  profound  secret  if  it  had 
been  some  valuable  jewel  that  I  had^  stolen. 

Here  I  would  recommend  all,  and  especially  the 
young  when  under  the  influences  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
to  act  or  speak  out  what  the  Holy  Spirit  works  or 
teaches  witliin.-and  never  to  suffer  shame  or  the  fear 
of  man  to  deter  them  from  so  doing.  By  pursuing 
this  course  you  will  bafHe  many  of  the  temptations  of 
the  enemy  and  be  the  better  prepared  to  "  work  out 
your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling;  for  it  is 
God  working  in  you  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  own 'good 
pleasure." 

Those  convictions  followed  me  up  more  or  less  for 
months  and  years.  Sometimes  my  impressions  would 
become  almost  overwhelming,  particularly  while  hear- 
ing the  word  preached,  or  soon  after,  when  meditating 
upon  what  I  had  heard.  At  those  times  I  would  seek 
an  opportunity  of  going  to  some  secret  place  to  fulfil 
my  vows. 

About  this  period  of  my  life,  being  about  17  or  18 
years  of  age,  I  became  acquainted  with  a  number  of 
young  people  who  were  not  immediately  Connected 
with  my  neighborhood,  and  in  this  way  I  extended 
the  circle  of  my  acquaintance  in  different  parts  of  the 
surrounding  country.  The  circumstances  that  seems 
to  have  given  rise  to  this  extension  of  my  acquaint- 
ance were  these  :  I  had  two  sisters,  who  were  about 
grown,  and  were  fond  of  going  to  meeting  whenever 
they  could  get  an  opportunity.  I,  being  their  oldest 
brother,  must  as  a  matter  of  course,  go  with  them  to 
render  them  assistance  if  needful  and  to  take  care  of 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  31 

them  the  best  I  could.  The  young  people  of.  different 
neighborhoods  became  acquainted  with  us  and  we  were 
invited  to  their  homes ;  we  went,  and  as  we  were  all 
fond  of  young  people's  company,  and  to  be  courteous, 
we  would  invite  to  our  father's  house.  In  this  way 
visits  became  reciprocal  and  common,  and  intimacies 
were  engendered  and  friendships  formed. 

On  reflecting  upon  this  period  of  my  life  I  remem- 
ber many  incidents  with  pleasure  and  some  with  pain. 
The  extension  of  my  acquaintance  was  calculated  to 
benefit  me  in  some  respects  and  to  injure  me  in  others. 
I  was  thus  drawn  into  new  scenes  of  pleasure  or 
mirth,  and  new  temptations  were  crowding  upon  me. 
It  was  customary  and  fashionable  at  this  period  of  my 
life  for  the  young  people  of  the  different  neighbor- 
hoods often  to  meet  together  at  qailtings,  parties,  wed- 
dings or  some  merry-making  assemblage.  It  was  not 
long  before  I  engaged  in  those  diversions,  and  soon 
became  very  fond  of  them.  I  never  tried  to  darce, 
neither  did  I  have  any  inclination  for  that  species  of 
mirth,  but  for  singing  plays,  and  for  songs,  and  plays 
of  romance  generally,  I  had  a  particular  liking  and 
generally  indulged  in  them  to  great  excess,  so  much 
so  that  I  soon  found  myself  looked  upon  by  others  as 
one  of  the  ring-leaders  in  those  diversions. 

While  these  plays  and  diversions  were  being  acted 
or  going  on  in  iny  presence  I  seldom  thought  of  the 
subject  of  religion  except  when  I  saw  some  professor 
of  religion  or  member  of  the  church  engage  in  them, 
and  then  I  thought  it  was  very  unbecoming,  and  con- 
cluded that  if  I  were  a  christian  I  would  not  indulge 


32  The  Life  and  Times  of 

ill  any  of  those  things.  At  that  time  I  loved  to  play, 
and  felt  there  were  no  religious  restrictions  upon  me, 
but  that  T  had  liberty  to  indulge  and  give  full  scope 
to  my  inclinations  in  these  things,  but  my  mind  was 
so  impressed  with  the  inconsistency  of  christians  go- 
ing into  these  plays  that  I  would  never  persuade  a  pro- 
fessor of  religion  to  engage  in  them,  if  I  knew  the 
person  to  be  a  professor.  Sinner  as  I  was,  I  thought 
that  christians  should  be  a  peculiar  people  and  sepa- 
rate from  the  world. 

As  well  as  I  can  recollect,  when  I  was  engaged  in 
those  diversions  my  mind  was  occupied  with  little  else 
than  vanity,  and  I  soon  found  that  this  was  the  most 
successful  way  for  me  to  pursue  in  order  to  drown  or 
smother  the  workings  of  conviction  upon  my  mind. 
Though  I  felt  that  it  was  a  great  sin  to  stifle  the  work 
of  conviction  in  the  heart,  vet  to  prevent  detection  I 
have  rushed  headlong  into  these  plays  with  all  the 
outward  appearance  of  being  as  vain  and  blithesome 
as  any  of  the  crowd.  But  when  I  left  the  place  reflec- 
tion gave  me  more  pain  than  the  diversion  g^ve  me 
pleasure.  I  did  souietimes  become  very  miserable  in 
taking  a  retrospective  view  of  my  past  conduct,  and 
wished  that  I  had  never  been  born,  but  I  must  let  no 
one  know  this,  and  thus  I  kept  it  concealed  in  my  own 
bosom  and  appeared  to  have  as  few  serious  thoughts 
as  most  persons  have  at  that  age. 

I  will  here  state  a  fact  which  many  persons  now  liv- 
ing have  heard  me  relate  both  in  preaching  and  in 
conversation.  It  is  this:  from  the  time  when  I  was 
first  convicted  at  the  camp-meeting  till  I  professed  re- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  33 

ligion,  which  was  about  five  years,  I  never  attended 
preaching  and  paid  attention  to  the  sermon  without 
feeling  more  or  less  affected,  I  became  satisfied  that 
if  I  gave  that  attention  to  preaching  which  it  was  my 
duty  to  do-,  I  should  become  so  agitated  in  my  mind 
that  concealment  would  be  impossible,  and  as  I  must 
keep  it  concealed  at  all  hazards,  I  would  often  stay  out 
of  doors  during  the  sermon  and  thus  be  better  pre- 
pared to  enjoy  myself  with  young  people  in  the  even- 
ing. If  I  went  in  the  house  and  took  my  seat,  I  would 
often  think,  now  I  will  keep  my  place  but  I  will  pay 
as  little  attention  to  what  the  preacher  may  say  as 
possible  or  I  shall  be  detected  or  unfit  to  spend  a  pleas- 
ant evening.  In  this  way  I  often  found  my  impres- 
sions deepest  and  more  intense  when  alone  because  I 
would  then  give  in  to  meditation  and  reflection. 

I  made  many  vows  and  promises  in  my  mind  in  re- 
gard to  the  subject  of  religion  but  generally  violated 
them.  I  would  resolve  and  re  resolve,  but  as  often 
break  them  as  I  made  them,  and  thus  I  found  there 
was  little  confidence  to  be  reposed  in  a  vow  or  promise 
made  in  my  own  mind  and  known  only  to  myself 
and  God.  I  do  not  recollect  that  I  was  impressed  at 
that  time  with  the  fact  that  I  was  committing 
the  sin  of  lying  to  God,  though  I  was  convinced  of 
this  afterwards,  and  that  to  my  sorrow;  for  I  often 
felt  if  I  died  without  religion  and  went  to  hell,  the 
sin  which  would  torment  me  most  would  be  grieving 
the  Spirit,  violating  vows,  and  breaking  resolutions, 
which  would  constitute  the  sin  of  lying  to  the  Holy 
Ghost.     I  sometimes  felt  that  I  would  rather  appear 


34  The  Life  and  Times  op 

before  my  Judge  with  all  my  other  sins  upon  me  than 
the  grievious  sin  of  quenching  and  grieving  the  Spirit, 
because  I  felt  such  awful  forebodings  on  that  subject. 
As  time  passed  on,  and  as  I  was  growing  up  to  man- 
hood, though  under  the  medium  size  of  young  men  of 
my  age,  T  went  to  meeting  nearly  every  Sabbath  and 
would  sometimes  give  a  limited  attention  to  the 
preaching  of  the  Word,  so  that  my  slumbering  con- 
victions were  often  revived.  About  this  period  of  my 
life,  which  was  about  the  date  of  1835  or  1836,  there 
were  considerable  revivals  of  religion  going  on  in  dif- 
ferent churches  and  among  different  denominations 
of  christians,  I  would  go  to  some  of  those  meetings 
to  see  and  hear  what  was  going  on.  I  would  sometimes 
almost  get  the  consent  of  my  mind  to  seek  religion 
publicly  by  going  to  the  mourner's  bench,  but  some- 
thing always  intervened  to  prevent.  I  would  sometimes 
see  things  occur  in  these  meetings  of  which  I  disap- 
proved, and  I  would  make  that  a  plea;  at  other  times 
my  heart  appeared  more  hard  and  callous  at  the 
meeting  than  at  other  times  when  I  was  at  home; 
and  again  I  would  cleave  to  my  old  opinion  of  being 
stricken  down,  and  as  such  I  could  only  attend  those 
revival  meetings  as  an  observer.  It  was  also  about 
this  period  of  my  life  that  my  mind  was  drawn  out 
for  the  first  time  upon  that  mysterious  subject  in  the- 
ology, the  doctrine  of  election  and  reprobation.  The 
difficulty  seemed  to  be  in  making  the  foreknowledge 
of  God  harmonize  with  man's  accountability ;  or,  ac- 
cording to  the  more  enlightened  usage  of  those  terms,  to 
reconcile  the  sovereignty  of  God   with  the  moral  or 


Ukv.  Johnson  Olive.  35 

free  agency   of  man.     The   nearest  church,    where  I 
usually  attended  preaching  once  a  month,  was  a  Bap- 
tist church,  and  they  had  for  their  pastor  an  aged  man, 
who,  though  illiterate,  was  a  very  excellent  preacher, 
noted  for  his  piety  and  christian  deportment.     In  doc- 
trine he  was  considered  high  Caivinistic  bordering  on 
Antinomianisra.     I  reverenced  him  as  a  teacher  sent 
of  God.   Of  course  I  knew  nothing  then  of  christian 
love,  but  I  delighted    to   honor   him.     He  sometimes 
went  to  my  father's  house,  and  my  parents  regarded 
him  as  a  teacher  sent  of  God,  and  taught  their  children 
to  do  the  same.     He  preached  there  a  number  of  years, 
before  the  times  (.f  which  I  am  now  speaking.     He 
gained   many  friends  and   followers.     He   left  before 
my  connection    with   the  church,  thcugh  I  have  seen 
him   frequently   since   and   heard    him   [)reach  a  few 
times.     I  have  heard  recently  that  he  is  dead.     I  liave 
no  doubt  about  his  religion  ;  I  believe  he  lived  and 
died  a  christian,  and  should  it  be  my  happy  lot  to  get 
to  Heaven  I  expect  to  see  that  worthy  father  in  Israel 
there.     As  before  stated, at  this  period'of  my  life  tiiose 
mysterious  doctrines  were  agitating  the  n)inds(f  chris- 
tians and  people  generally,   more  or  less.     Many  re- 
ceived them,  as  taught  and   explained   by  Caivinistic 
divines,  while  others  rejected   tliem  in  part  or  entire. 
I  was  of  the  opinion  at  that  time  that  ministers  sent  of 
God  knew  all  thiiigs  pertaining  to  their  office      I  had 
an   idea  that  ordinary   ministers    called  and  sent  <»f 
God  were  endowed  with  the  same  power  and  functions 
(miracles  excepted,)  possessed  by  the  Apostles  of  Chiist, 
I  had  no  idea  that  there  were  any  mysteries  or  difficul- 


36  The  Life  and  Times  op 

ties  in  the  Bible  to  a  minister's  naind,  but  that  he  un- 
derstood the  whole  better  than  I  did  any  little  school- 
book  that  I  had  ever  used.  So  when  I  heard  any  per- 
son say  that  the  preacher  taught  a  doctrine  that  was 
not  true,  I  thought  they  must  be  very  ignorant  them- 
selves, or  that  they  had  dared  to  call  in  question  the 
veracity  of  the  preacher ;  for  I  believed  that  the 
{)reacher  knew  what  the  truth  was,  whether  he  taught 
it  or  not.  I  soon  found  that  ministers  were  divided 
in  their  sentiments  and  opinions  about  this  mysterious 
subject,  and  about  many  other  doctrines  contained  in 
the  Bible  ;  and  how  was  I  to  know  who  was  right  and 
who  was  wrong.  All  professed  to  be  christians;  all  had 
the  same  Bible.  The  ministers  who  differed  all  pro- 
fessed to  be  called  and  sent  by  the  same  God  to  dis- 
charge the  same  duty  and  to  fulfil  the  same  design 
and  purpose  of  their  one  great  Master.  I  was  there- 
fore driven  to  the  necessity  of  considering  this  subject 
for  myself.  1  soon  got  it  tangled  up  in  my  mind,  and 
would  have  gladly  untangled  it  if  I  had  known  how; 
but  in  trying  to  untangle  it  I  got  my  mind  and  some 
of  the  broken  threads  of  my  subject  tied  together,  so 
that  when  I  would  have  gladly  laid  it  down  I  was 
unable  to  do  it  because  it  seemed  to  be  tied  fast  to  my 
mind.  I  at  length  concluded  that  I  would  go  to  meet- 
ing and  hear  with  good  attention  the  old  preacher's 
explanation,  and  as  this  was  a  favorite  topic  with  him 
I  had  no  doubt  that  he  would  enable  me  to  un- 
tangle it,  at  least  so  far  as  to  enable  me  to  loose  my 
mind  from  it,  for  it  had  become  very  wearisome  and 
burdensome  to  me.  I  went  to  the  meeting,  heard  the 
good  old    man   preach;  he  said  a  great  many  things 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  37 

about  the  foreknowledge  and  purposes  of  God,  and 
as  usual  the  doctrine  of  election  was  his  favorite  topic. 
I  found  at  the  close  of  the  sermon  my  mind  was 
more  entangled  than  ever  before,  but  I  attributed  it  to 
my  weak  and  imperfect  understanding  more  than  to 
an}Hhing  else.  1  thought  I  would  be  glad  to  talk 
with  him  about  the  matter,  but  had  neither  confidence 
or  resolution  in  myself  to  do  so.  In  treating  on  this 
subject  he  had  said  that  a  man's  good  works  did  not 
forward  him  in  religion,  neither  did  his  bad  ones  hin- 
der him;  but  all  depended  upon  the  superabounding 
love  of  God  shown  us  in  Christ  before  the  foundation 
of  the  world,  and  that  none  could  share  this  grace  but 
the  elect,  or  those  given  to  Christ  in  the  covenant  of 
redemption.  In  this  way  he  would  extol  the  grace  of 
God,  but  leave  the  subject  lame,  in  my  dark  and  im- 
perfect mind,  in  regard  to  man's  accountability.  I 
felt  and  believed  that  I  was  accountable  to  God  for 
my  conduct,  and  that  I  should  be  judged  and  re- 
warded in  the  last  day  according  to  the  deeds  done  in 
the  body;  but  if  a  man's  good  works  did  not  forward 
him,  nor  his  bad  ones  hinder  in  religion,  of  course 
there  was  nothiiigthatlcoulddo  to  better  ray  condition, 
or  to  alter  my  case  in  any  way  whatever.  I  thought 
if  I  could  be  certain  that  I  understood  his  meaning 
clearly  I  would  settle  down  in  the  doctrine  of  fate, 
and  enter  fully  into  the  sentiment  of  thousands  who 
say  if  I  am  to  be  saved  I  shall  be  saved,  and  if  I  am 
to  be  lost  I  shall  be  lost,  and  attribute  the  whole  con- 
cern to  the  foreknowledge  or  decree  of  God.  But  I 
felt  conscious  that  I  did  not  understand  him  correctly, 


38  The  Life  and  Times  of 

for  I  remembered  that  he  almost  invariably  con- 
cluded his  sermons  by  exhorting  sinners  to  repentance 
and  faith.  And  although  this  appeared  to  my  mind 
as  a  contradiction  of  what  he  had  said  in  his  preced- 
ing remarks,  yet  I  believed  that  by  the  light  of  re- 
ligion he  understood  it  clearly,  and  as  I  was  in  dark- 
ness, and  had  no  spiritual  discernment,  tlierefore  I 
could  not  understand  it;  but  this  did  not  remove  the 
difficulty  from  my  mind,  for  there  were  many  who 
professed  to  be  christians,  and  whose  piety  was  un- 
doubted, that  differed  as  widely  with  the  preacher  on 
this  subject  as  any  of  the  world,  and  why  was  it  that 
they  could  not  understand  it?  But  at  last  I  came  lo 
•the  conclusion  that  the  preacher  understood  his  own 
business  best,  and  that  others  had  not  enjoyed  the 
same  light  on  this  subject  that  he  had,  and  therefore 
they  did  not  understand  it  clearly.  I  tried  again  to 
lay  down  the  subject  as  too  high  for  me,  but  was  un- 
able to  do  so  from  the  fact  that  the  threads  of  the  sub- 
ject were  interwoven  and  tangled  with  the  threads  of 
my  mind.  About  this  time  some  of  my  companions 
and  former  associates  made  profession  of  religion.  I 
knew  some  of  them  had  been  more  wild  and  out- 
breaking in  their  habits  than  I  had  been,  and  why 
was  it  that  they  could  get  religion  so  soon,  and  ap- 
parently £0  easy,  and  I  must  grovel  on  in  the  dark 
without  any  prospect  of  obtaining  it?  I  would  some- 
times think  that  this  was  an  evidence  that  the  doc- 
trine of  election  and  reprobation,  as  I  understood  it, 
was  true*:  "For  it  is  not  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of 
him  that  ranneth,  but  of  God  that  showeth  mercy."     I 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  39 

would  think  he  was  one  of  the  elect,  therefore  he  is 
brought  into  the  fold  ;  I  am  one  of  the  reprobates,  as 
such  I  am  left  out.  Then  again  I  would  think  that 
my  sins  were  of  a  more  aggravating  nature  than  theirs  ; 
they  had  sinned  outwardly,  I  had  sinned  inwardly; 
their  sins  were  open,  mine  concealed;  but  that  diffi- 
cult and  tangled  subject  seemed  to  press  upon  my 
mind  more  or  less  daily.  One  day  in  midsummer, 
while  I  was  hoeing  corn,  this  subject  came  with  con- 
siderable force  to  my  mind,  and  I  concluded  that  I 
would  endeavor  to  examine  it  by  simplification.  I 
thus  thought  of  myself,  a  poor,  hard-hearted  sinner, 
laboring  and  toiling  with  a  load  of  guilt  upon  my 
mind,  and  no  way  to  get  it  off;  my  lot  appears  to  be 
a  hard  one,  laboring  and  toiling  all  my  days  to  sup- 
port a  life  that  I  cannot  enjoy,  and  after  I  have 
tugged  through  this  life,  with  all  its  burdens  and 
sorrows,  lie  down  and  die,  and  go  to  hell;  but  it  is 
my  lot — my  destiny — and  there  is  no  way  to  avoid 
it.  It  has  all  come  about  in  consequence  of  the  fore- 
knowledge, decrees  and  purposes  of  God  ;  therefore 
this  doctrine,  as  understood  by  myself,  is  true,  not- 
withstanding all  my  feigned  ignorance  or  efforts  to 
evade  it.  There  is  no  chance  for  me,  so  will  make  my- 
self contented. 

I  think  about  this  time  I  indulged  some  hard 
thoughts  about  my  Creator.  I  felt  that  I  had  had  no 
^  part  in  bringing  myself  into  the  world,  and  to  be 
compelled  to  live  a  sinner,  die  a  sinner,  and  to  go  to 
hell  a  sinner,  it  was  hard.  While  meditating  on  my 
awful   condition,  the   impression   was   made  on  my 


40  The  Life  and  Times  of 

mind  that  perhaps  I  did  not  understand  this  subject 
yet,  and  that  if  I  would  look  at  it  again  I  would  see 
it  differently  ;  so  I  concluded  I  would  do  so,  as  it  could 
make  my  case  no  worse,  if  it  made  it  no  better. 
Now,  said  I,  God  does  know  all  things,  always  has,  and 
always  will.     I  give  into  that  sentiment  heartily. 

Well,  if  He  has  all  knowledge.  He  knew  whether 
you  would  be  born  or  not,  and  whether  you  would 
live  to  your  present  age  or  not,  and  knew  the  death 
that  you  would  die,  and  of  course  whether  you  would 
be  fit  to  go  to  heaven  or  not,  and  as  such  whether  you 
would  be  saved  or  lost.  Yet  the  mere  fact  of  His 
knowing  this  does  not  determine  it  to  be  so,  for  you 
would  have  pursued  the  same  course  that  you  have 
pursued,  even  if  it  could  have  been  unforeknown. 

I  give  into  this  also,  and  said  let  me  work  this  rule 
of  simplification  a  little  further.  Now,  said  I,  God 
knows  what  I  am  doing  here  to-day,  and  the  state  of 
my  mind  is  plain  to  Him.  He  knows  whether  I  will 
work  till  night  or  stop  short — whether  I  will  finish 
this  now  or  leave  a  few  hills  at  the  end.  I  wish  I 
knew  which  way  God  knows  it  to  be,  then  I  would 
try  to  act  differently,  and  see  if  foreknowledge  has 
any  restraint  on  my  actions  or  not.  I  raised  my 
hoe  to  cut  up  a  sprig  of  grass  near  a  stalk  of  corn, 
and  the  impression  came  into  my  mind  with  re- 
doubled force  :  Now  God  doth  know  whether  you  will 
cut  up  that  bunch  of  grass  or  let  it  stand  where  it  is, 
and  yet  you  have  the  physical  power  to  do  either,  cut 
it  up  or  let  it  stand  ;  you  can  do  as  you  will.  I  paused 
and  considered,  with  my  hoe  suspended  in  the  air  for 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  41 

a  few  moments,  in  order  to  decide  which  I  would  do. 
I  felt  satisfied  that  I  had  full  power  and  ability  to  do 
either  way,  and  thought  I  wished  I  did  know  which 
way  God  knew  I  would  act,  so  that  I  might  try  my 
ability  to  act  differently.  My  motive  for  this  was  not 
to  frustrate  any  of  the  designs  or  purposes  of  God  in 
reference  to  His  foreknowledge,  but  to  try  to  harmon- 
ize the  conflicting  parts  of  this  mysterious  and  per- 
plexing subject,  and  to  untangle  it  in  my  mind,  so 
that  I  might  lay  it  down. 

While  I  was  thus  standing,  with  my  hoe  suspended, 
to  determine  which  I  would  do,  cut  it  up  or  leave  it 
standing,  this  thought  rushed  into  my  mind:  Now, 
what  is  your  duty — cut  it  up  or  let  it  stand?  The  an- 
swer was  at  hand — cut  up  the  grass  and  let  the  corn 
grow.  And  as  quick  as  thought  another  deep  impres- 
sion vyas  made  on  my  mind,  which  was  this  :  Go  on 
and  do  your  duty,  and  leave  the  rest  to  God.  I  im- 
mediately felt  relief;  the  subject  vanished  from  my 
mind. 

I  was  thus  enabled  to  lay  it  down,  with  the  satisfac- 
tory evidence  that  the  foreknowledge  of  God,  be  it 
what  it  i^ight,  imposed  no  restraints  upon  me  so  far 
as  duty  was  concerned.  And  I  have  never  felt  any 
desire  to  take  it  up  since. 

I  was  thus  taught  the  truth  and  force  of  that  pas- 
sage of  Scripture  vvhich  says:  "Secret  things  belong 
to  God,  but  revealed  things  belong  unto  us  and  to  our 
children  forever." 

I  also  found  that  this  simple  incident  in  the  history 
of  my  life  removed  a  load  from  my  mind,  which  all 


42  The  Life  and  Times  of 

the  metaphysical  reasoning  that  I  Lad  ever  heard,  or 
anything  else  connected  with  that  subject  had  ever 
been  able  to  do.  I  have  since  learned  that  God  often 
reveals  to  babes  and  sucklings  what  He  sees  fii  to  con- 
ceal from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  thus  perfects 
praise  unto  Himself. 


./ 


CHAPTER  in 


Having  laid  down  this  subject,  with  no  desire  or 
intention  of  taking  it  up  any  more,  my  mind  was 
exercised  about  my  duty  to  myself  and  to  God.  I  felt 
that  I  was  a  sinner,  and  without  repentance  I  must 
perish  in  my  sins.  I  had  read  in  the  New  Testament 
that  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners, 
and  that  He  by  the  grace  of  God  had  tasted  death  for 
every  man ;  but  how  to  avail  myself  of  the  benefits 
of  the  death  of  Christ  I  knew  not.  I  would  sometimes 
thiuk  that  I  was  not  sufficiently  penitent;  again  I 
would  think  that  ray  convictions  were  not  of  the  right 
kind,  and  that  I  must  break  off  from  all  my  sins,  of 
whatever  nature  they  might  be,  whether  they  con- 
sisted in  act,  thought,  or  deed  ;  ^thus  I  would  resolve  to 
reform  my  life  in  all  these  particulars,  thinking  per- 
haps in  this  way  I  might  make  some  preparation 
on  my  part  to  receive  the  grace  of  God.  But  I  soon 
found  these  resolutions  miscarried;  for  they  were  bro- 
ken as  often  as  made.  Thus  I  soon  found  that  I  was 
under  the  influence  of  a  carnal  mind,  which  is  not 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  43 

subject  to  the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be;  I 
soon  found  that  there  was  no  dependence  to  be  reposed 
in  any  of  my  resolves.     Daring  all  this  time    I  was 
nsing  the  utmost  secrecy  in  keeping  all  these- things 
to  myself,  not  willing  that  any  human  being  should 
know  what  was  going  on  in  my  mind.     I  would  some- 
times think  if  I  were  away  from  all  my  associates  and 
acquaintances    I    would  be   less   embarrassed    about 
keeping  it  concealed  ;  for  I  felt  that  I  needed  instruc- 
tion, and  would  have  gladly  sought  it  if  it  had  not 
been  for  shame,  or  for  fear  that  my  associates  would 
find  it  out,  as  they  were  my  besetting  sins.    About  this 
time  I  concluded  that  I  would  leave  the  neighborhood, 
and  go  a  distance  of  some  twenty  miles  on  the  other 
side  of  Cape  Fear  river,  and  attend  a  meeting  that  was 
to  be  held  there.     I  would  thus  be  away  from  all  those 
outside  influences  which  I  felt  were  holding  me  back, 
and  preventing  me  from  seeking  religion  publicly.     I 
went  to  the  meeting  with  a  determination  to  become 
a  mourner.     On  my  arrival  there,  I  found  that  nearly 
all  who  were  at  the  meeting  were  strangers  to  me.     I 
thought  I  would  have  a  favorable  time.     I  went  into 
the  house  and  listened  to  preaching,  with  my  mind 
made  up  to  present  myself  as  a  seeker  of  religion  at 
the  close  of  the  sermon ;  but  when  the  sermon  closed 
my  heart  was  less  affected  than  usual  on  such  occa- 
sions.    I  felt  that  if  I  went  to  the  mourner's  bench,  in 
cold  blood,  and  with  a  hard  heart,  and  could  not  shed 
tears,  it  would  do  me  more  harm  than  good,  and  more 
than  all  it  would  seem  like  tempting  God;  so  I   re- 


44  The  Life  and  Times  of 

mained  where  I  was  as  an  outside  observer.     Many 
thoughts  revolved  through  my  mind  during  the  meet, 
ing.     I  saw  that  my  resolutions  were  falling  tiirough. 
I  could  resolve  well  but  performed  badly;  indeed,  I 
began  to  see  that  the  heart  was  deceitful  and  despe- 
rately wicked,  and  who  can  know  it?  I  found  as  many 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  my  seeking  religion  among 
strangers  as  I  had  found  in  the  midst  of  my  associates 
and  acquaintances.     I  stayed  at  the  meeting  two  days 
and  then  started  home,  feeling  that  I  had  undertaken 
something  and  was  leaving  without  even  attempting 
to  perform  it.     I  think  that  these  things  occurred  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  summer  of  1837.     Soon  after  this 
I  started  to  school,    as  my    father   told    me   that   he 
wanted  me  to  go  about  three  months  more;   and    I 
must  learn  all  I  could,  as  he  never  expected  to  send 
me  to  school  any  more  after  that.     I  was  not  in  a  very 
good  state  of  mind  to  learn  at  school ;  but  did  the  best 
I  could  under  the  circumstances.     It   has   often    ap- 
peared to  me  when  reflecting  on  this  period  of  my  life 
that   I    was    under    the   influence  of  two  conflicting 
spirits,  one  good  and   the  other   evil.     Sometimes  I 
would  find  myself  yielding  to  one  and  sometimes  to 
the  other — both  spirits  seemed  to  be  striving  for  the 
mastery.  When  under  the  influence  of  the  good  Spirit 
T  could  shed  tears  freely,  feel  tender,  and  thought  that 
I  desired  to  be  a  christian,  above  everything  else  on 
earth;  and  frequently  found   myself  in  going  to,    or 
from  school,  in  deep  and  prayerful  meditation  about 
the  subject  of  religion.     While  on  the  other  hand  I 
would  find   myself  under  the  influence   of  evil,    my 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  '  45 

mind  would  be  filled  with  vain  and  sinful  thoughts, 
my  temper  would  become  irritated,  my  passions 
aroused,  and  I  would  often  give  vent  to  feelings  and 
words  which  I  looked  upon  as  being  wicked  and  sin- 
ful. I  would  sometimes  think  that  it  was  needless  for 
me  to  think  about  reforming  my  life  or  of  amending 
my  ways,  for  I  had  so  often  violated  my  vows,  resolu- 
tions and  promises  that  the  thing  appeared  impossible. 

As  it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  have  reference  to 
some  dreams  or  visions  in  the  course  of  this  work,  I 
will  merely  state  in  the  outset  that  I  place  no  great 
estimate  on  dreams  in  general  or  particular  in  the 
present  age  of  the  world.  I  am  no  interpreter  of 
dreams,  never  have  been,  neither  do  I  ever  expect  to 
be,  yet  I  have  always  been,  from  the  earliest  period  of 
my  recollection,  a  great  dreamer.  On  reflection  I  think 
I  have  found  my  dreams,  in  general,  have  indicated 
the  state  of  my  mind,  that  is,  the  nature  of  my  dreams 
would  be  good  or  bad,  pleasant  or  fearful,  according  to 
the  exercises  or  state  of  my  mind  in  my  wakeful 
hours.  For  several,  years  during  this  period  of  my 
life  I  was  the  subject  of  some  of  the  most  terrific  and 
awful  dreams  that  I  have  ever  heard  related.  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  relate  them  tiere  in  full.  But  believing 
in  that  Scripture  passage  which  says,  "Let  him  that 
hath  a  dream  tell  a  dream,"  I  will  say  somtthing  about 
them  as  such,  and' hope  that  all  who  may  read  this 
book  will  remember  that  they  were  dreams,  and  that  I 
have  told  them  as  such. 

During  my  sleeping  hours  I  was  very  often  alarmed 
and  greatly  frightened  at  what  I  conceived  to  be  the 


46  The  Life  and  Times  of 

Devil,  who  was  always  after  me.  Repeatedly  and  at 
different  tioaes  he  appeared  in  all  the  various  shapes 
and  forms  in  which  he  is  said  to  transform  himself. 
Sometimes  he  would  come  in  the  shape  of  some  hid- 
eous beast  of  prey,  sometimes  more  like  a  mammoth 
dog,  but  more  frequently  like  a  giant  of  a  negro,  rag- 
ged and  filthy,  generally  with  a  chain  in  his  hand  or 
somewhere  about  him.  It  mattered  not  in  what  form 
or  shape  he  came  I  always  knew  him  and  understood 
his  errand.  He  was  after  me,  and  many  a  hard  race  I 
have  run  in  my  dreams  in  trying  to  get  away  from 
him.  I  would  sometimes  become  so  tired  and  weary 
that  I  would  faintly  sink  to  the  ground.  On  one  oc- 
casion I  was  thus  running  with  might  and  main  try- 
ing to  get  to  my  father's  house,  thinking  if  I  could  get 
to  my  parents  they  would  plead,  for  me  and  that  my 
life  might  be  spared  a  little  longer.  I  succeeded  in  get- 
ting near  the  house,  though  the  Devil  gained  on  me, 
and  was  near  at  my  heels.  I  saw  my  father  and  mother 
come  out  of  the  house ;  they  turned  their  backs  on 
me  and  walked  away  ver}^  fast,  but  ray  mother  turned 
her  head  and  looked  at  me  over  her  shoulder  with  a 
countenance  filled  with  despair.  01  that  look  ;  it  is 
still  fresh  in  memory. 

On  another  similar  occasion  I  succeeded  in  getting 
my  mother  to  plead  for  me,  but  the  Devil  told  her  that 
it  would  do  no  good,  but  would  rather  make  the  worse 
for  me,  even  if  he  should  spare  my  life  a  little  longer, 
for  that  I  would  grow  worse  and  worse  the  longer  I 
lived,  and  that  his  title  to  me  was  good  any  way.  My 
mother  shed  tears,  and  said  she  hated  to  see  me  drawn 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  47 

away  from  her  at  that  time  and  hoped  that  I  would  do 
better.  My  mother  and  the  Devil  agreed  to  refer  the 
matter  to  me;  said  thac  I  might  have  my  choice,  go  or 
stay  longer,  the  Devil  persisting  all  the  while  that  it 
would  only  make  my  case  worse  if  I  chose  to  stay. 
But  of  course  I  chose  to  put  off  the  evil  day  as  long 
as  possible,  and  as  the  Devil  walked  off  he  exultantly 
remarked  that  it  would  do  no  good  for  me  to  stay  here 
any  longer,  but  it  made  no  difterence  with  him,  as  he 
was  good  for  me  any  how. 

At  another  time  I  dreamed  that  he  came  in  the 
sha[)e  of  some  hideous  beast,  took  me  Upon  his  back 
and. trotted  off  with  me  towards  his  horrible  den, 
which  I  found  to  be  an  awful  chasm  in  the  side  of  a 
mountain  or  very  steep  hill.  He  carried  me  to  the 
entrance  of  his  den.  When  he  ope.ied  the  door  I  saw 
the  thick  clouds  of  smoke  issuing  from  the  den  through 
the  door  and  ascending  upwards.  I  heard  the  heart 
rending  shrieks  of  the  damned,  and  as  he  went  in, 
leaving  me  at  the  door,  I  thought  he  had  gone  down 
to  fix  my  place.     I  awoke  and  behold  it  was  a  dream. 

On  th^s  occasion,  as  well  as  in  almost  every  other 
dream,  when  things  were  rapidly  hastening  to  a  crisis, 
I  awoke  and  was  pleased  to  find  that  it  was  not  a  real- 
ity, though  the  sufferings  of  my  mind  were  great  whiiC 
it  was  going  on.  I  do  not  recollect  that  I  had  many 
pleasant  dreams'during  the  period  of  five  years,  which 
includes  that  time  of  my  life  which  I  spent  while 
under  conv'iction  for  sin.  I  was  frequently  attacked 
by  dogs,  which  bit  and  mangled  me,  or  by  snakes  and 
serpents  of  enormous  size.     I  seemed  to  have  no  power 


48  The  Life  and  Times  of 

over  the  Devil  or  any   other  enemy,   but  I  was  weak 
and  easily  overpowered  by  everything. 

A  few  times  I  dreamed  of  the  judgtnent  day,  always 
unprepared,  and  on  one  occasion  the  books  were  opened 
and  the  Book  of  Life  was  searched  and  my  name  w^s 
not  there.  I  stood  with  awful  feelings,  expecting  soon 
to  hear  my  doom,  "  Depart  ye  cursed  into  everlasting 
fire  prepared  for  the  Devil  and  his  angels."  How  glad 
1  was  when  I  awoke  and  found  it  was  a  dream. 

Perhaps  some  who  may  read  this  book  may  w^onder 
why  I  have  neverspoken  more  freely  about  my  dreams. 
I  will  here  give  some  of  my  reasons  :  At  the  period  of 
my  life  when  these  dreams  were  passing  through  my 
mind  I  frequently  heard  people,  both  young  and  old, 
telling  their  dreams,  but  my  dreams  were  so  different 
from  theirs,  and  such  bad  ones,  too,  that  I  was  unwill- 
ing to  tell  them.  Another  reason  why  I  kept  them  to 
myself  was  because  I  heard  some  old  people  say  that 
the  more  a  person  told  his  dreams  the  more  he  would 
have  them,  and  I  desired  no  more  of  the  sort  that  I 
had.  Thus  I  kept  them  to  myself  while  they  were 
passing.  I  have  sinte  refrained  from  speaking  much 
about  them,  for  the  reason  that  I  did  not  repose  much 
confidence  in  dreams,  and  for  the  furtiier  reason  that 
I  was  unable  to  interpret  them  myself  and  never  found 
any  person  that  could. 

In  making  tiie  foregoing  statement  about  dreams  in 
general,  and  some  of  mine  in  particular,  I  have  tried 
to  state  facts  as  they  occurred  to  my  mind.  Those 
dreams  passed  through  my  mind  some  thirty  years 
ago.     They  are  still  fresh  in   memory.     I  send  them 


OF  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  49 

forth  as  dreams,  hope  you  will  receive  them  as  such, 
and  make  the  best  of  them  you  can.  If  there  be  any 
good  connected  with  them  I  owe  it  to  God  ;  if  there  be 
anything  bad  I  must  take  it  to  myself,  and  as  such  I 
drop  the  subject  for  the  present. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

As  before  remarked,  I  was  at  this  period  of  my  life 
going  to  school  five  days  in  the  week,  and  as  I  thought 
it  would  be  the  last  term  in  which  I  should  ever  goto 
school,  I  endeavored  to  learn  all  I  could  in  such  studies 
as  would  be  most  useful  to  me  as  a  farmer's  boy.  I 
did,  sometimes  however,  become  so  much  concerned 
about  my  spiritual  condition  that  my  mind  became 
incapacitated  for  my  school  studies.  I  recollect,  on 
one  occasion,  I  went  in  my  wanderings  to  a  grave- 
yard near  by  the  school-house,  in  which  lay  several 
persons  with  whom  I  had  once  been  acquainted  ;  es- 
pecially the  remains  of  one  aged  man  had  recently 
been  deposited  there  as  his  resting  place.  I  had  been 
intimately  acquainted  with  that  old  man  from  my 
first  recollection.  He  always  seemed  to  have  some- 
thing like  filial  affection  for  me,  and  had  always  ap- 
peared glad  to  see  me.  He  was  a  very  pious  man, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  a  true  christian.  I  went  to  his 
grave,  looked  on  the  mound  of  earth  that  covered  his 
mortal  remains,  while  many  thoughts  revolved  through 


50  The  Life  and  Times  of 

my  troubled  breast.  I  thought  if  I  were  a  christian  I 
would  gladly  go  to  my  grave  to  be  relieved  of  my 
trouble;  but  my  case  was  this:  unfit  to  die,  and  un- 
prepared to  enjoy  life.  While  musing  around  this 
silent  and  solemn  place,  this  thought  came  into  my 
mind,  I  wonder  if  the  spirit  of  this  good  old  man  sees 
me  or  knows  what  I  am  doing,  if  so  he  must  know 
something  of  the  state  of  my  mind,  and  it  seemed  if 
tiiat  were  a  fact  he  must  sympathize  with  me.  I  had 
not  yet  learned  that  sorrow  could  not  enter  Heaven. 
I  soon  found  my  eyes  suffused  in  teajs  and  walked 
away  with  a  sorrowful  heart.  About  this  time  of  my 
life,  I  would  go  to  preaching  somewhere  nearly  every 
Sabbath,  but  did  not  always  give  attention  to  the  ser- 
mon, for  fear  that  I  would  become  so  much  affected, 
that  I  should  be  unprepared  to  spend  a  pleasant  even- 
ing with  my  associates.  Revivals  of  religion  were 
still  going  on,  and  many  of  the  young  people  of  the 
neighborhood  were  giving  into  these  things.  Among 
others  were  my  two  oldest  sisters.  They  had  now  be- 
come public  mourners.  I  would  sometimes  think  that 
they  had  been  over-persuaded,  and  I  seemed  to  fear 
that  they  were  not  under  conviction,  as  they  had  not 
been  stricken  down  lielpless;  for  I  was  still  under  that 
delusion. 

About'  this  time  of  my  life  I  was  under  great 
temptations  to  end  my  earthly  existence,  from  the  fact 
that  I  saw  no  prospect  of  my  ever  getting  any  better, 
and  feeling  that  I  was  constantly  growing  worse.  My 
sins  rose  up   before  me  like   mountains;  my   broken 


*  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  5i 

vows  and  promises  seemed  to  stare  me  in  the  face ; 
memory  recalled  the  many  instances  in  which  I  had 
endeavored  to  quench,  grieve,  and  stifle  the  workings 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon  my  heart;  concience,  also, 
drew  up  the  bill  of  indictment  and  I  found  myself  a 
guilty  and  condemned  sinner  at  the  tribunal  of  God, 
and  felt  that  I  was  justly  exposed  to  his  wrath.  I  felt 
a  desire  to  escape,  but  knew  not  how,  for  I  had  not  as 
yet  opened  the  state  of  my  mind  to  any  human  being, 
and  the  weight  of  my  load  of  sin  and  guilt  became 
so  heavy  that  I  felt  my  burden  was  more  than  I  could 
bear.  I  would  sometimes  think,  if  I  would  let  it  be 
known  to  some  christian  people,  and  tell  them  the 
state  of  my  mind,  I  would  find  some  relief;  and  I  have 
since  become  satisfied  that  if  I  had  pursued  that  course 
it  would  have  been  better  for  me. 

On  one  occasion,  I  resolved  to  try  the  experiment; 
I  had  an  uncle  and  aunt  living  near  by  the  place 
where  I  was  going  to  school.  They  were  both  pious, 
and  as  I  believed  warm-hearted  christians.  I  there- 
fore concluded  to  go  and  spend  a  night  with  them, 
and  as  they  were  full  of  religion,  they  would  be  apt  to 
say  something  to  me  upon  that  subject,  which  would 
give  me  a  favorable  opportunity  to  tell  them  the  state 
of  my  mind.  I  went  and  spent  a  night  with  them, 
and  we  talked  about  a  great  many  things  ;  and  among 
other  things,  my  Uncle  spoke  of  the  happy  meetings 
which  had  been  and  were  still  going  on  in  almost 
every  part  of  our  country.  He  spoke  of  having  been 
present    at  some  of  those  meetings,  and   the  happy 


52  The  Life  and  Times  of 

seasons  of  refreshing  grace  showered  down  upon  chris- 
tians, and  of  the  power  of  God  which  was  displayed  in 
the  conviction  and  conversion  of  siiwiers,  the  many 
converts,  &c.  I  would  think,  now  is  my  time  to  open 
the  state  of  my  mind  and  tell  my  feelings,  but  it  would 
seem  if  I  made  the  attempt  I  should  be  choked,  so  I 
kept  the  subject  and  the  burden  wrapped  up  and  con- 
cealed in  my  own  breast.  My  uncle  said  to  me  "  there 
will  be  a  camp  meeting  at  Buckhorn  in  the  course  of 
a  week  or  two  and  I  intend  going  for  I  believe  we 
shall  have  a  good  meeting,"  and  asked  me  if  I  was  not 
going.  I  told  him  that  I  thought  I  would.  "  Yes,  said 
he,  I  want  your  two  sisters  to  go,  and  you  must  go 
with  them,  for  I  think  we  shall  have  a  glorious  meet- 
ing." My  heart  seemed  to  flutter  within  my  breast;  I 
desired  to  speak  and  tell  my  feelings  but  did  not,  only 
consenting  to  go  to  th:e  meeting.  I  left  my  uncle's 
house  next  morning  and  returned  to  school  with  an 
accusing  conscience  for  having  violated  and  broken 
another  promise. 

Time  rolled  on,  days  and  nights  passed  away  in 
rapid  succession,  and  I  with  a  heavy  load  of  guilt  upon 
m}''  heart,  my  mind  filled  with  the  recollection  of 
broken  vows  and  promises,  would  try  to  pursue  my 
studies  at  school,  and  often  think  of  the  camp  meeting, 
which  was  soon  to  come  on.  I  would  sometimes  think 
of  making  another  vow  to  seek  religion  at  that  meet- 
ing; but  I  had  violated  so  many  solemn  promises, 
made  in  my  own  mind,  and  known  only  to  God  and 
myself,  that  I  was  fearful  to  make  another  promise, 
for  fear  that  I  would  break  that  also.     Indeed  the  bur- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  53 

den  of  broken  vows  had  become  so  heavy  that  I  did 
not  feel  that  I  could  bear  up  under  the  weight  of  many 
more.  I  would  sometimes  think  that  I  would  go  to 
the  meeting  without  any  previous  thought  or  arrange- 
ment of  mind,  in  regard  to  the  course  which  I  would 
pursue  when  I  got  there;  but  that  did  not  suit  me, 
and  I  would  think  of  the  meeting,  and  of  my  going  to 
it,  and  the  course  which  I  would  pursue,  when  I  should 
get  there,  in  spite  of  all  that  I  could  do  to  avoid  it. 

At  length  I  made  up  my  mind  in  regard  to  the 
course  which  I  would  pursue  at  the  camp-meeting.  I 
Jaad  a  cousin  who  lived  near  the  camp-ground,  and 
who  was  about  my  age.  He  was  a  member  of  the 
Methodist  Society,  and  appeared  very  pious.  So  I 
concluded,  when  I  should  arrive  there,  I  would  make 
myself  known  to  him,  and  associate  with  him  during 
my  stay  at  the  meeting,  believing  that  he  would  be 
ready  and  willing  at  all  times  to  render  me  any  as- 
sistance which  I  might  need,  and  he  able  to  give,  for 
I  never  doubted  that  he  would  do  me  all  the  good  he 
could,  and  as  little  harm  as  possible.  I  also  thought 
I  would  feel  less  embarrassed  to  open  my  mind  to  him 
than  to  almost  any  other  person  ;  and  as  I  had  deter- 
mined to  go  there  to  seek  religion,  I  desired  to  associ- 
ate with  one  in  whom  I  could  at  all  times  confide. 

The  morning  arrived  when  my  two  sisters  and  my- 
self were  to  start  to  the  meeting.  New  difficulties 
seemed  to  crowd  upon  me.  I  had  some  trouble  in 
finding  our  horses,  as  they  had  left  the  pasture.  I 
thought  that  was  an  unfavorable  omen,  as  it  indicated 
to  my  mind  that  Providence  was  against  me,  other- 


54  The  Life  and  Times  of 

wise  the  horses  would  have  been  in  their  proper  place. 
But  as  I  was  not  long  in  finding  them,  we  made  haste 
and  started  in  due  time,  but  after  traveling  something 
over  half  the  distance  to  the  meeting  I  heard  sad 
news.  We  met  up  with  some  person  who  told  us  that 
my  cousin,  with  whom  I  was  going  to  associate  at  the 
meeting,  was  dead,  and  I  think  he  was  to  be  buried 
that  day.  My  feelings  on  hearing  this  news  were  in- 
describable. It  seemed  that  all  my  plans  were  falling 
through.  All  my  prospects  for  the  better  seemed  to 
be  blasted,  and  my  poor  heart  seemed  to  sink  within 
me.  The  thought  soon  came  to  my  mind  that  he  was 
prepared  to  go  ;  but  suppose  it  had  been  me  instead 
of  him,  how  dreadful  would  have  been  my  condition ! 
I  felt  that  he  had  gone  to  rest,  to  live  with  God  in 
glory,  but  if  it  had  been  me  I  should  have  gone  to 
hell,  and  been  venting  my  fruitless  cries  where  no 
mercy  could  ever  come.  I  also  began  to  think  that 
time  was  getting  short  with  me,  and  that  my  case  was 
rapidly  hastening  to  a  crisis.  I  felt  that  I  desired  re- 
ligion above  everything  else,  and  was  willing  to  re- 
ceive it  on  any  terms  that  God  would  be  pleased  to 
grant  it;  but  how  to  obtain  it  I  knew  not.  Indeed,  it 
seemed  to  me  that  Providence  was  frowning  upon  me, 
for  all  my  plans  were  failing  before  the  time  arrived 
for  me  to  put  them  into  execution.  Something,  how- 
ever, must  be  done,  and  done  soon,  or  I  should  be  un- 
able to  survive.  I  was  conscious  of  the  fact  that  there 
were  others  who  would  be  at  the  meeting,  and  who 
could  and  would  be  able  and  willing  to  do  as  much 
for  me  as  my  dear  cousin  could  have  done  if  be  had 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  55 

not  died.  But  I  could  not  feel  so  free  and  open  with 
them  as  I  could  have  done  with  him.  But  the  crisis 
was  approaching,  and  I  must  take  things  as  I  found 
them.  Delay  would  no  longer  do.  I  therefore  could 
not  do  any  better  than  to  resolve  again,  though  I 
feared  it  would  be  broken,  like  all  my  previous'resolu- 
tions  on  the  subject  of  religion;  but. as  life  or  death 
seemed  to  be  involved  in  my  de<3ision,  I  therefore  de- 
termined in  my  own  mind  to  present  myself  at  the 
mourners'  bench  at  the  first  opportunity. 

We  arrived  at  the  camp-ground  just  in  time  to  hear 
the  11  o'clock  or  noon  sermon.  There  was  a  large 
concourse  of  people  present,  and  as  usual,  there  were 
a  great  many  wagons  and  vehicles  standing  in  the 
outskirts  of  the  encampment,  and  numerous  tents, 
both  of  wood  and  cloth,  arranged  in  regular  style.  I 
took  a  seat  in  the  midst  of  the  congregation,  some  dis- 
tance from  the  preacher's  stand,  though  near  enough 
to  hear.  My  feelings,  during  the  sermon,  were  vari- 
ous and  changeable.  Sometimes  I  would  feel  tender, 
at  other  times  my  heart  seemed  hard  and  cold.  There 
were" some  moments  during  the  sermon  when  I  felt  if 
the  invitation  could  be  given  then  for  anxious  souls 
to  come  forward,  I  would  be  among  them.  I  finally 
concluded,  when  the  invitation  should  be  given  at  the 
close  of  the  sermon,  I  would  go  anyhow.  I  was  not 
aware  at  that  time  of  the  desperate  struggle  I  was 
then  about  to  have  with  the  powers  of  darkness.  The 
battle  was  fierce,  but  not  of  long  duration.  The  sar- 
mon  closed,  the  invitation  was  given,  but  I  did  not 
go.     My  heart  just  at  that  moment  felt  so  hard,  and 


56  The  Life  and  Times  op 

my  eyes  so  dry,  that  I  felt  if  I  went  in  such  a  (rame 
as  was  then  upon  me  I  should  sin  presumptuously. 
Many,  however,  did  go  from  all  parts  of  the  congre- 
gation. I  looked  on  and  listened  to  their  mournings, 
lamentations  and  prayers  till  I  wished  myself  among 
them  ;  but  I  was  not  there.  I  soon  became  so  wretched 
and  miserable  that  I  left  the  crowd,  and  went  some 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  to  look  after  our  horses.  As 
I  left  the  camp-ground  I  could  hear  the  different 
sounds  which  were  usual  on  such  occasions.  Some 
w^ere  shouting,  while  prayer  and  praise  were  being 
constantly  offered  up  to  God.  It  seemed  there  was  a 
suitable  place  for  everybody  but  me;  for  even  the 
hardhearted  and  careless  seemed  delighted.  But  I 
suppose  they  cared  for  none  of  those  things. 
■>  I  found  our  horses  doing  well.  They  seemed  so  well 
satisfied  that  I  w^ould  have  willingly  changed  condi- 
tions with  J,hem.  I  started  back  to  the  encampment, 
for  I  knew  not  what  to  do.  I  left  the  road  and  went 
through  an  old  field  overgrown  with  thick  pine.  I 
thought  I  w^ould  be  glad  to  see  a  ghost — or  even  the 
devil  himself,  if  it  would  be  the  means  of  altering  my 
wretched  feelings,  and  of  helping  me  to  seek  religion  ; 
but  I  saw  nothing  but  the  waving  boughs  of  the  young 
pines,  which  seemed  to  bespeak  the  praise  of  God.  I 
returned  to  the  road,  and  was  soon  nearing  the 
encampment.  I  had  a  long  hill  to  ascend,  at  the  top 
of  which  was  the  camp  ground.  My  burden  was  so 
heavy  that  I  became  weary,  and  felt  as  if  I  could 
hardly  go. 

As  I  drew  near  the  encampment,  at  the  top  of  the 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  57 

bill,  I  saw  two  men,  with  whom  I  was  acquainted,  in 
close  conversation.     They  seemed  wonderfully  pleased 
at  something,  though  I  knew  not  what;  and  as  neither 
of  them  was  a  professor  of  religion,  1  murmured  in 
my  own  mind,  because  I  was  not  permitted  to  feel  and 
appear  as  they  did.     I  felt  the  temptation,  so  strong  in 
my  mind,  that  I  resolved  to  throw  away  my  strange 
and  delusive  feelings,  and  go  up  and  join  them  in  their 
conversation.  I  started  to  them  but  only  advanced  a 
few  steps,  before  the  impression  cam^  into  my  mind 
that  they  would  consider  me  as  an  intruder,  and  that 
I  should  be  forcing  myself  where  I  was  not  wanted. 
This  impression  was   so  strong  in  my  mind   that   I 
halted,  and  stood  stock  still,  till  one  of  them,  who,  by 
the  way,  was  my  own  dear  cousin,  took  notice  of  my 
singular  conduct,  and  spoke  to  me  in  a  friendly  way, 
inviting  me  to  come  up  and  join  them  in  their  con- 
versation, reminding  me  that  they  were  not  on  secrets. 
I  now   thought  I  can  go   without   any    difficulty;  I 
started,  but  only  got  about  half  way  to  them,  when 
the  impression  came  into  my  mind,  with  redoubled 
force,  that  he  had  only  invited  me,  through  courtesy, 
to    join  them   in   their  conversation,   but   in    reality 
neither  of  them  wanted  my  presence.     I  halted  again, 
under  the  weight  of  this  last  impression,  and  just  at 
that  moment  the  horn  sounded  for  evening  services. 
A  man,  with  whom  I  was  acquainted,  and  who  was 
also  an  efficient  member  of  the  church,  was  hastening 
to  the  stand  ;  he  passed  just  between  me  and  my  two 
friends  in  conversation;  and  by  some  means,  I  know 
not  what,  I  found  myself  following  close  at  his  heels. 


58  The  Life  and  Times  of 

When  we  arrived  at  the  altar,  he  went  in,  aod  I  took  a 
seat  as  near  as  I  could  get  to  the^altar.  I  now  deter- 
mined to  give  good  attention  to  the  sernaon,  and  at  the 
close  I  would  be  anaong  the  first  to  go  to  the  altar  as  a 
seeker  of  religion.  The  man  who  preached  that  night 
appeared  quite  young  though  full  of  zeal ;  his  text  was, 
"This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  accepta- 
tion ;  that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinners."  The  preacher  spoke  of  the  great  salvation, 
wrought  out  by  Christ,  of  the  faithfulness  of  that  say- 
ing, and  proved  it  by  many  witnesses,  some  who  had 
sealed  their  testimony  with  their  blood,  and  others 
who  were  then  living  witnesses,  and  they  all  united 
in  saying  it  is  worthy  of  all  acceptation.  Upon  the 
whole  I  thought  he  handled  his  subject  well  and 
preached  a  great  sermon.  In  his  closing  remarks,  he 
spoke  of  the  gre^t  sin  and  danger  of  neglecting  this 
great  salvation,  and  in  illustrating  this  truth  he  had 
reference  to  some  cases  in  scripture,  and  to  other  inci- 
dents in  human  life.  The  sermon  was  heart-searching 
and  soul-siirring  to  me.  I  felt  that  I  was  a  great, 
very  great  sinner,  and  but  for  Paul's  closing  remark 
to  the  text,  "  Of  whom  I  am  chief,"  I  should  have 
despaired.  This  seemed  to  be  my  only  plea,  Jesus  is 
able  to  save  even  tie  chief  of  sinners.  I  now  thought 
I  would  rush  into  tlie  altar  at  the  first  invitation  and 
ask  every  body  to  pray  for  me;  but  to  my  surprise 
when  the  invitation  was  given  I  did  not  go.  Some 
strange  and  unaccountable  feeling  passed  over  me  and 
through  me;  I  have  since  thought  it  must  have  been 
the  devil's  death  struggle  to  keep  me  back  from  Christ! 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  59 

I  felt  so  bad  that  I  sat  with  my  head  hung  down 
like  a  bullrush,  and  could  not  so  much  as  raise  my 
e3''es  towards  Heaven  but  only  smite  upon  my  breast 
and  say  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.  I  now  thought 
of  the  deceitfulness  of  the  heart,  and  the  exceeding 
sinfulness  of  sin,  and  wished  myself  at  the  altar,  but 
was  not  there.  While  I  was  thus  meditating  on  my 
ruined  condition,  some  kind  friend  came  to  me  and 
said:  "  My  friend,  don't  you  want  religion?"  I  made  no 
reply,  my  heart  was  too  heavy,  but  I  rose  up  when  he 
said  to  me  :  "  Come,  go  with  us,  we  will  endeavor  to  do 
thee  good,  for  the  Lord  hath  spoken  well  concerning 
this  way."  I  could  not  contain  my  feelings  any  longer. 
I  burst  out  into  a  loud  cry,  and  was  willing  to  go  any- 
where upon  God's  earth  if  it  would  be  a  means  of  bet- 
tering my  lost  condition.  This  friend  led  me  into 
the  altar,  and  I  am  sure  he  could  not  be  more  willing 
to  do  so  than  I  was  to  go.  He  prepared  a  place  for 
me  to  kneel  by  a  seat  and  gave  me  some  good  advice 
by  way  of  encouragement.  Telling  me  to  confess  my 
sins  to  God  and  pray  for  his  pardoning  grace;  to  seek 
him  with  all  my  heart,  for  in  the  very  day  and  hour 
I  should  do  that  He  would  be  fond  of  me,  &c.  My 
good  friend  then  left  me  for  a  short  time,  as  I  suppose 
to  meditate  on  what  he  had  said  to  me.  My  feelings 
soon  became  more  calm,  and  I  wi41  here  give  as  near 
as  I  can  the  exercises  of  my  mind,  at  this  important 
period  of  my  life.  The  first  thought,  as  well  as  I 
recollect,  that  came  to  my  mind,  was  this:  what  have 
you  come  here  for?  My  answer  was  to  seek  the  salva- 
tion of  my  soul,  and  I  would  be  glad  to  know  what 


60  The  Life  and  Times  of 

the  Lord  would  have  me  to  do.     The  next  question  was, 
are  you  willing  to  give  up  all  for  religion  ;    the  world 
with  its  pleasures  and  allurements,  and   all  your  sins, 
and  vain  amusements  ;  in   short,  are  you   willing  to 
deny  yourself,  take  up  your  cross  and  follow  Christ 
wherever  He  may  call  you  to  go  for  religion.    I  paused 
in  my  mind,  before  giving  an  answer,  for  fear  that  my 
poor,  treacherous  heart  might  deceive  me  as  it  had  so 
often  done  before,  when  I  thought  of  this   passage  of 
Scripture :  "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the 
whole  world  and  lose  his  own   soul ;  or  what  shall  a 
man  give  in   exchange  for  his  soul."     I  then  felt  that 
by  the  help  of  the  Lord  I  could  do  it.     Then  I  saw  in 
imagination    my   associates   and    companions   in   sin 
standing  near  by  me,  and  I  thought  they  looked  as  if 
they  were  concerned  about  me  and  Vv^islied   to  get  me 
away  from   the  place   which  I   then   occupied.     The 
question  was  now  proposed  to  my  mind,  can  you  for- 
sake these  for  religion?     I  answered   yes,  if  they  will 
not  go  with  me  to  Heaven,  I  am  determined  not  to  go 
witii  them  to  hell.     They  vanished  from  my  mind  in 
an  instant,  and  I  saw  them  no  more  on  that  occasion. 
Then  my  mind  seemed  to  take  a  more  extensive  view 
of  the  world   than  it  had   ever  done  before,  indeed  I 
have  often  said  it  was  lil^e  the  fool's  eyes,  wandering 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth.     The  last  question   was  now 
proposed,   which   was   this,  are  you  willing  to  give  up 
the  world  with  all  of  its  glory,  its  pomp,  its  pleasures, 
its  wealth,  its  honors,  and  be  a  meek  and  humble  fol- 
lower of  Christ  for  religion  ?  I  replied,  yes,  I  am  willing 
to  be  anything,  to  do  anything,  to  suffer  anything  for 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  61 

the  sake  of  religion.  Only  save  my  soul  and  I  will 
submit  to  anything.  And  just  here,  as  unexpected  to 
me  as  anything  could  be,  I  lost  my  burden — my  bur- 
den of  guilt  and  sin,  which  1  had  carried  for  five  long 
years,  I  mean  from  the  time  I  was  first  struck  under 
conviction.  I  was  still  kneeling  at  my  seat  where  my 
good  friend  had  left  me.  I  did  not  believe  it  was  re- 
ligion but  thought  it  was  a  token  for  good  ;  it  rolled 
off  so  easy,  I  knew  not  how,  it  seemed  as  if  a  gentle 
breeze  of  air  had  blown  through  my  breast,  and  with 
a  gentle  hand  had  brushed  my  load  of  sin  away. 

Now,  I  had  been  at  the  mourners'  bench  but  a  very 
short  time — not  as  long,  I  suppose,  as  it  has  taken  me 
to  write  the  account  of  it — and  as  I  had  always  con- 
sidered the  travail  of  a  soul  from  nature  to  grace  to 
commence  with  the  public  or  outward  sign,  my  travail 
had  been  too  short  to  obtain  religion  ;  and  more  than 
that,  I  had  not  seen  heaven  or  hell,  and  I  had  heard 
some  say  that  they  had  seen  both  places,  and  I,  of 
course,  expected  to  see  my  Saviour,  and  hear  Him  say, 
arise,  go  in  peace ;  thy  sins,  which  are  many,  are  all 
forgiven  thee.  But  as  none  of  these  things  had  taken 
place  with  me,  I  could  only  consider  what  had  taken 
place  with  me  as  only  a  token  for  good,  only  to  inspire 
hope  in  me  to  persevere.  I  knew  also  that  I  was  at  a 
Methodist  camp-meeting,  and  I  feared  they  would  dis- 
cover some  change  in  the  exercise  of  my  mind,  from 
the  fact  that  I  could  not  pray,  God  be  merciful  to  me, 
a  sinner;  Lord  save  a  soul  condemned  to  die,  as  I 
had  done;  for  the  weight  of  guilt  and  sin  w^as  gone. 
And  when  I  would  try  to  pray  I   would  find    myself 


62  The  Life  and  Times  of 

laughing.  So  as  I  was  fearful  they  would  pronounce 
me  a  convert  before  I  was  satisfied  with  myself,  I 
crawled  under  the  bench  w^here  I  had  been  kneeling, 
in  order  that  they  might  not  notice  me  so  closely. 
But  I  did  not  remain  there  long,  for  my  uncle,  to  whom 
I  had  gone  on  a  former  occasion  to  disclose  the  state 
of  my  mind,  but  failed  to-do  it,  was  there,  and  had 
just  learned  that  I  was  in  the  altar  of  prayer.  He 
sought  diligently  for  me,  till  he  found  me  under  the 
bench.  He  took  great  pains  in  getting  me  from  un- 
der the  bench,  placed  my  head  in  his  lap,  and  began 
to  rejoice  over  me,  that  I  h'ad  come  to  the  conclusion 
to  seek  religion  ;  gave  much  good  advice,  and  told  me 
to  pray  to  God  for  renewing  grace.  After  talking  to 
me  for  a  few  moments,  by  way  of  encouragement  I 
suppose,  he  discovered  that  I  was  not  praying  as  he 
thought  a  true  penitent  should  pray.  My  good  friend, 
or  some  other  good  brother,  said  to  my  uncle  :  "  Do 
you  know  that  young  man?"  My  uncle  replied: 
"Yes;  he  is  a  nephew  of  mine."  "Well,"  said  my 
friend,  "  let  him  be  whom  he  may,  he  has  got  religion." 
I  wished  he  had  kept  that  word  back,  for  I  was  not 
satisfied,  because  I  had  not  seen  visions  or  heard 
sounds  or  voices  from  heaven. 

My  uncle  then  began  to  notice  me  very  closely,  to 
see  what  was  the  nature  of  my  prayer,  and  soon  began 
to  interrogate  me  on  the  subject  of  religion.  He  said  : 
"  You  have  got  religion  now,  haven't  you  ?"  I  made 
no  reply.  He  asked  me  again,  and  I  replied  that  I 
was  not  satisfied.  He  then  asked  me  my  reason  for 
not  being  satisfied,  when  I  replied  by  saying  it  was 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  63 

too  soon.  He  told  me  that  God's  works  were  not  like 
man's  works;  that  God  only  had  to  speak  the  word 
and  the  work  was  done  ;  that  God  could  convert  a 
soul  in  an  hour  or  a  minute — whenever  the  heart  was 
prepared,  as  in  a  month  or  year. 

Just  at  this  instant  my  aunt,  the  wife  of  my  uncle, 
came  to  me  shouting  and  praising  God  for  what  He 
had  done  for  her  soul,  and  for  what  He  was  now  doing 
for  the  souls  of  her  people.  I  rose  up  and  commenced 
shouting  and  praising  God  aloud  ;  and  the  next  thing 
I  remember  I  was  going  over  the  altar,  embracing  in 
my  arms  christians  and  ministers,  in  token  of  my  love 
to  God  and  love  to  them.  I  thus  went  on  shouting 
and  praising  God,  till  I  was  exhausted.  I  never  saw 
before  such  beautiful  faces.  It  appeared  to  me  that 
everybody  was  happy — even  the  trees  in  the  grove 
seemed  to  speak  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  leaves  in 
the  trees  seemed  to  speak  His  praise.  I  felt  that  I  was 
heaven-born  and  heaven-bound.  I  could  not  be- 
lieve that  I  ever  should  grieve,  or  that  I  ever  should 
suffer  again. 

But  how  changeable  are  our  feelings,  and  how  little 
did  I  then  know  of  the  temptations  and  trials  of  the 
christian  ;  for  early  next  morning,  as  the  sun  was  just 
rising,  I  walked  out  of  the  tent  where  I  had  been 
sleeping,  and  looking  over  the  grove  and  seeing  several 
persons  whom  I  had  seen  over  night,  none  of  these 
things,  thought  I,  look  so  beautiful  as  they  did  last 
night,  neither  do  I  feel  that  ecstacy  and  thrill  of  joy 
which  I  imagined  I  felt  then.  I  began  to  doubt  and 
fear  that  I  had  missed  the  substance  and  caught  the 


64  The  Life  and  Times  of 

shadow,  and  therefore  was  deceived.  I  was  deter- 
mined not  to  rest  there;  if  I  was  deceived  I  desired 
to  know  it,  and  know  it  soon,  in  order  that  I  might 
set  about  seeking  religion  again. 

I  left  the  encampment,  went  some  distance  in  the 
woods,  and  made  my  way  to  a  large  white  oak  tree. 
When  I  arrived  there,  I  fell  on  my  knees  and  com- 
menced trying  to  pray  to  God  to  show  me  what  I  was. 
and  where  I  stood,  and  if  deceived,  to  undeceive  me; 
but  I  had  spoken  only  a  few  words,  when  it  seemed 
that  the  Holy  Ghost  came  down  ia  love,  and  testified 
to  my  mind  that  I  was  a  child  of  God.  I  then  thought 
I  would  never  doubt  again. 

I  returned  to  the  camp-ground  feeling  so  light  that 
it  seemed  I  only  softly  touched  the  ground. 

During  that  day  I  succeeded  in  getting  the  consent 
of  several  of  my  acquaintances  to  go  into  the  altar 
and  seek  religion.  I  felt  very  certain  if  I  could  get 
them  to  go  there  they  would  be  converted,  and  that 
soon.  I  found,  however,  it  was  not  so  easy  to  get  them 
out  christians  as  it  was  to  get  them  in  sinners,  for 
some  of  them  continued  mourners  for  3'ears. 

I  had  one  sister  who  professed  religion  at  the  same 
meeting. 

We  stayed  at  the  meeting  three  or  four  days,  and 
then  left  for  home.  Our  parents  had  heard  of  the 
conversion  of  my  sister  and  myself,  and  I  doubt  not 
they  felt  glad,  but  neither  of  them  were  professors,  as 
I  know  of. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  65 


CHAPTER  V^ 


In  a  few  days  after  I  got  home,  I  fell  into  doubting 
castle,   and   many   a  hard   struggle  I   had   with    the 
tempter  before  I  found   relief.     My   doubts  and   fears 
were  so  great  that  I   was  bordering  on    despair.     I 
would  repair  to  the  woods  and  other  secret  places  to 
make  known  my  request 'to  God,  but  it  seemed  to  me 
that  the  heavens  were   sealed  against  me,  and   that 
God's  ears  were  deaf  to  my  prayers,  as  it  was  more  than 
a   week   before   I   found  relief.     My   mother  became 
somewhat  alarmed  at  my  situation,  and  feared  that 
my   uneasiness  of  mind   would  result  in    something 
serious.     She  sought  an   opportunity  to  talk  with  me 
on    the    subject.      She   said   that  all  christians  had 
doubts.     "Yes,"  said  I,  "but  not  such  as  mine,  for  I 
am  deceived,  and  I  want  to  seek  religion  again."    She 
replied  that  she  had  heard  many  persons  relate  their 
experiences,  and  that  they  had  all  been  troubled  with 
doubts  and  fears,  and  therefore  she  hoped  I  would  not 
go  crazy  on  the  subject  of  religion.     I  knew  she  felt 
deeply  concerned  about  me,  but  I  felt  no  relief   in 
mind  from  anything  she  had  said   to  me.     The  time 
rolled  on,  when  brother  Dowd  was  to  preach  at  Holly 
Springs.     I  determined  to  go,  and  see  if  I  could  not 
find  some  relief  there.     I  attended  meeting  Saturday 
and  Sunday  without  any  material  change  in  my  feel- 
ings. 

As  I  was  going  home  on  Sunday   evening,  riding 
alone,  my  mind  in   prayerful  meditation,  I  decided 


66  •  The  Life  and  Times  of 

the  question.  I  believed  that  I  had  been  deluded.  I 
had  made  a  great  profession,  but  had  deceived  myself 
and  all  who  saw  and  heard  me.  I  resolved  to  return 
to  the  meeting  at  Holly  Springs  next  day,  and  pre- 
sent myself  at  the  mourners'  bench,  and  seek  religion 
in  good  earnest.  My  mind  was  somewhat  relieved  at 
this  decision,  for  I  now  had  a  plain  course  to  pursue, 
and  I  had  strong  hopes  that  I  WQuld  yet  obtain  re- 
ligion during  this  time  of  refreshing  from  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Lord. 

When  I  arrived  at  home  my  mother,  as  usual,  wanted 
to  know  how  I  was  getting  on,  and  whether  I  had  be- 
come satisfied  or  not.  I  told  her  that  I  wanted  to  go 
back  to  the  meeting  next  day,  and  also  what  I  in- 
tended to  do.  She  did  not  object,  but  I  thought  she  did 
not  heartily  approve  of  my  course.  My  father  said  he 
wanted  me  to  stay  at  home  on  Monday,  as  lie  had 
some  particular  work  for  me  to  do  that  day,  and  said 
I  might  go  on  Tuesday  and  stay  longer  if  the  meet- 
ing continued.  Of  course  I  consented,  but  had  much 
rather  gone  on  Monday. 

Tuesday  morning  I  started  to  meeting,  fixed  in  my 
determination  to  go  to  the  mourners'  bench  that  day. 
I  continued  in  this  notion  till  I  arrived  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  meeting-house.  Here  I  overtook  some 
of  my  former  associates,  and  learned  of  them  that  on 
the  day  before  there  was  a  great  outpouring  of  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord,  and  several  had  professed  religion, 
and  among  others,  some  of  my  former  associates.  On 
hearing  this  news,  my  feelings  changed  in  an  instant. 
My  heart  was  overflowing  with  joy,  I  could  scarcely 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  .  67  ' 

refrain  from  shouting  aloud.  I  had  no  doubts  about 
my  religion  now.  And  as  to  my  going  to  the  mourn- 
ers' bench,  there  was-  no  use,  for  I  had  nothing  on  my 
own  account  to  mourn  for.  I  then  concluded  that  I 
would  go  in  the  house,  and  seat  myself  as  conveniently 
as  I  could  and  pay  good  attention  to  preaching. 

Brother  Dowd  preached  one  of  the  most  heart-search- 
ing and  soul-stirring  sermons  that  I  ever  heard.  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  never  to  shout  again  if  I  could 
help  it.  I  thought  if  I  should  ever  be  compelled  to 
shout  by  an  irresistible  power,  I  would  then  know 
that  I  had  religion,  and  never  doubt  again.  Before 
the  sermon  was  ended  there  was  a  great  excitement  in 
the  house.  Sinners  were  crying  out,  mourners  pray- 
ing aloud,  and  many  christians  were  rejoicing.  My 
own  heart  w^as  filled  with  joy  inexpressible  and  full  of 
glory.  I  wanted  to  shout,  glory  to  God  for  dying  love 
and  redeeming  grace.  I  felt  that  I  ought  to  shout, 
but  I  had  vowed  never  to  shout  again  if  I  could  avoid 
it.  So  I  was  occupied  in  striving  to  curb  down  and 
suppress  my  feelings  ;  during  this  struggle  I  felt  that 
I  was  raised  some  eighteen  inches  above  my  seat,  and 
was  floating  in  the  air  like  a  feather.  I  shook  and 
trembled  like  a  leaf.  -This  state  of  feeling  lasted  only 
a  few  .minutes,  and  after  it  passed  off  I  settled  down 
on  my  seat,  and  the  state  of  my  mind  became  awful. 
I  felt  hard-hearted,  cold  and  indifferent.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  I  had  done  wrong.  I  had  quenched  the  Spirit; 
it  had  taken  its  flight,  I  feared  never  to  return  to  me 
again.     The  devil  whispered  and  said  that  I  had  com- 


68  The  Life  and  Times  of 

mitted  the  unpardonable  sin,  and  I  feared  that  it  was 
even  so.  I  repented  of  my  conduct  in  striving  against 
the  Spirit. 

I  made  another. vow,  and  that  was  if  the  good 
Spirit  should  ever  return  to  me  again,  I  would  act  out 
v/hatever  the  Spirit  might  work  within.  From  that 
time  till  I  joined  the  church  my  feelings  were  fluctu- 
ating. I  was  often  in  an  ecstacy  of  joy,  shouting  and 
praising  God ;  and  at  other  times  greatly  depressed  in 
spirit,  and  filled  with  doubts  and  fears.  As  I  was  thus 
trying  to  live  a  christian  life  by  frames  and  feelings, 
I  had  but  a  limited  idea  of  living  by  faith.  In  ref- 
erence to  this  period  of  my  life,  I  have  often  said,  I 
was  always  either  doubting  or  shouting. 

In  the  latter  part  of  this  year  1837,  in  connection  with 
many  others,  I  united  with  the  church  at  Shady  Grove, 
Wake  county,  N.  C.  Two  of  my  sisters  joined  at  the 
same  time,  and  we  were  all  baptized  by  brother  P.  W. 
Dowd. 

After  being  thus  reunited  with  the  church  by  ex- 
perience and  baptism,  I  felt  myself  under  the  most 
solemn  obligation,  both  to  my  God  and  to  my  breth- 
ren, for  my  religious  deportment.  I  soon  resolved,  in 
my  own  mind,  the  course  which  I  would  pursue.  I 
felt  that  it  was  my  duty,  as  a  servant  of  God  and  a 
member  of  His  household,  to  labor  in  His  vineyard 
according  to  my  ability.  I  was  conscious  that  the 
Lord  never  called  any  into  His  vineyard  to  idle  or 
loiter,  but  that  it  was  the  duty  of  all  to  labor  in  that 
part  of  the  vineyard  where  Providence  assigned  them. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  69 

and  that  every  one  should  use  his  talents  or  abilities 
in  that  sphere  in  which  he  would  be  likely  to  accom- 
plish most  good. 

I  had  no  idea  of  trying  to  preach  the  Gospel  at  that 
time,  but  felt  it  to  be  my  duty,  and  the  duty  of  every 
member  of  the  church,  to  do  all  we  could  for  the  glory 
of  God  and  the  good  of  souls.  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  I  would  be  strict  in  my  attendance  upon  the  pub- 
lic ordinances  of  religion,  and  ever  be  ready  to  assist 
in  the  support  of  the  pastor,  and  in  defraying  the  ex- 
penses of  the  church,  according  to  my  ability. 

The  year  1838  found  me  a  member  of  the  church. 
P.  W.  Dowd  was  our  beloved  pastor.  I  lived  with  my 
father  this  year,  and  labored  on  the  farm.  I  was  al- 
ways glad  when  the  time  come  to  go  to  the  church 
meeting.  I  was  pleased  to  meet  my  brethren  at  the 
place  appointed  for  the  worship  of  God,  especially  my 
dear  pastor  and  my  younger  brethren,  who  came  into 
the  church  at  the  time  I  did.  Thus  I  was  glad  when  it 
was  said  unto  me,  "  Let  us  go  up  to  the  house  of  the 
Lord,  and  let  us  exalt  His  name  together." 

It  was  during  this  year  I  began  to  have  some  idea 
of  living  by  faith.  My  feelings  were  not  so  fluctuating 
as  they  had  been.  Religion  seemed  to  become  more  firm 
and  fixed  in  my  mind,  and  consisted  more  in  a  liv- 
ing and  abiding  principle  in  the  soul  than  in  frames 
and  feelings. 

It  was  during  this  year  that  brother  Jesse  Howell, 
Jr.,  commenced  exercising  in  public  by  way  of  preach- 
ing. He  was  a  member  of  the  same  church  with  my- 
self, and  a  zealous,  warm-hearted  christian.     He  held 


70  The  Life  and  Times  of 

a  great  many  meetings  in  private  houses  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  great  good  seemed  to  result  from  the 
same.  I  often  went  to  his  meetings,  and  was  much 
revived  in  my  own  mind,  though  I  did  not  take  part 
in  any  of  the  public  exercises,  except  singing,  as  yet. 
A.S  I  had  a  strong  voice,  and  would  sing  w^th  anima- 
tion— or  for  some  other  reason — brother  Howell  was 
of  opinion  that  I  had  a  gift  for  public  prayer.  There 
were  other  older  brethren  of  the  same  opinion.  They 
began  to  speak  to  me  on  the  subject.  I  was  very  diffi- 
dent and  timid,  and  thought  it  a  little  strange  that 
they  should  single  me  out  from  the  rest  of  my  young 
brethren  and  urge  me  to  take  up  the  cross. 

At  that  time  I  did  not  think  that  it  was  any  more 
my  duty  to  pray  in  public  than  it  was  the  duty  of 
other  young  brethren.  I  was  firm  in  my  belief,  that 
it  was  the  duty  of  all  to  do  something;  and  that  every 
one  should  engage  in  that  part  of  the  work  for  which 
he  was  best  qualified.  But,  as  this  subject  was  often 
brought  to  bear  on  my  mind  with  some  weight,  I 
thought  if  I  had  the  ability  I  would  willingly  bear 
the  cross.  But  why  should  I  commence  public  prayer 
so  soon,  when  there  were  many  who  had  grown  old  in 
the  church,  and  who  had  never  been  heard  to  pray  in 
public;  I  did  not  feel  that  I  had  any  special  gift  or 
calling,  but  only  the  general  call  to  labor  in  the  vine- 
yard. I  finally  concluded  that  it  was  the  duty  of 
every  male  member  of  the  church  to  exercise  the  gift 
of  prayer  in  public,  if  he  had  the  ability  to  do  so,  with- 
out injuring  the  cause  of  Christ.  I  was  not  disposed 
to  push  myself  forward  in  this  'duty,  but  felt  a  willing- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  71 

ness  to  make  a  trial  whenever  a  favorable  opportunity 
presented   itself,  and  I  should  be  called  on   to  do  so. 

About  this  time  I  attended  one  of  brother  Howell's 
meetings.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  had  some  idea  of 
what  had  been  going  on  in  my  mind,  for  he  took  me 
aside  privately,  before  he  commenced  the  exercises  of 
the  evening,  and  told  me  that  I  must  help  him,  and 
as  an  inducement  for  me  to  make  the  attempt,  he  said: 
"After  I  get  through  with  my  discourse  I  will  call  on 
you  to  pray,  and  if  you  should  fail  for  want  of  matter 
and  form,  I  will  take  up  the  prayer  and  go  through 
with  it."  With  diffidence  I  consented  to  make  my  first 
effort.  At  the  proper  time  I  was  called  on  to  pray.  I 
commenced  ;  soon  became  excited  in  my  feelings;  my 
zeal  outrun  my  judgment;  many  in  the  congregation 
seemed  to  be  shocked  ;  some  shouted  aloud  and  others 
cried.  I  succeeded  in  winding  up  my  prayer  with  a 
shout. 

We  had  quite  an  interesting  meeting  that  night. 
I  felt  relieved  from  the  fact  that  I  had  endeavored  to 
discharge  a  duty  which  I  believed  to  be  of  general  ob- 
ligation. But  afterwards  on  reflection,  I  was  not  so 
well  satisfied  about  the  course  which  I  had  pursued. 
I  had  now  opend  a  gap  in  my  history  which  I  feared 
I  would  not  be  able  to  keep  up.  I  would  have  no  ob- 
jection in  trying  to  keep  it  up,  provided  I  could  al- 
ways have  due  notice  given,  but  to  think  of  the  prob- 
ability of  my  being  taken  on  surprise  at  every  meeting 
which  I  might  attend,  of  being  called  on  to  pray  here 
and  there,  and  everywhere,  I  felt  conscious  that  I 
should  not  be  able  to  command  variety,  form  and  mat- 


72  The  Life  and  Times  op 

ter  sufficient  to  go  through  with  it.  And  again  I 
would  think  of  winding  up  my  prayer  with  a  shout; 
and  of  praying  with  the  spirit  and  not  the  understand- 
ing. I  thought  it  might  answer  a  few  times  from  a 
new  beginner,  but  if  repeated  too  often  it  would  wear 
down  and  become  disgusting;  and  as  such  injure  the 
cause  of  religion.  I  would  sometimes  wish  it  was  not 
known  that  I  had  ever  attempted  to  pray  in  public. 
But  I  was  satisfied  the  fact  would  be  known  as  far  as 
I  was  known  myself. 

About  one  week  after  my  first  attempt  to  make  pub- 
lic prayer,  I  was  at  preaching  on  the  Sabbath  day. 
The  house  was  crowded  with  people.  I  took  a  seat 
somewhere  in  the  back  part.  The  minister  preached 
a  very  feeling  and  pathetic  discourse.  After  he  got 
through  his  sermon  he  gave  an  invitation  to  any  and 
all  to  come  forward  who  desired  an  interest  in  the 
prayers  of  the  people  of  God.  Several  came  forward. 
This  seemed  to  animate  the  soul  of  the  old  preaclier ; 
he  met  them  on  the  floor,  and  exhorted  them  and  the 
congregation  at  large  till  his  strength  failed.  He  then 
began  to  call  on  his  brethren  who  sat  near  him  one 
after  another  to  lead  in  prayer;  they  all  declined  with 
a  shake  of  the  head.  My  poor  heart  began  to  flutter. 
I  thought  they  ought  to  have  consented  to  try,  but 
they  did  not.  I  wished  that  I  was  more  experienced, 
then  T  would  volunteer  my  poor  efforts ;  but  I  was  too 
young  and  inexperienced  to  do  that;  and  more  than 
all,  it  was  not  a  Baptist  meeting;  but  in  spite  of  all 
my  reasoning  I  did  sympathize  with  the  old  man,  and 
felt  anxious  to  assist  him.     The  old  minister  rose  up 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  73 

once  more  and  said  :  "  Is  it  possible  that  there  is  not 
one  in  this  congregation  who  is  willing  to  help  me 
pray  for  these  mourners?" 

No  one  spoke.  Just  at  that  moment  I  saw  a  sister 
step  to  the  j)reacher  and  wl.nsper  in  his  ear.  He  in- 
stantly turned  his  face  towards  me,  and  called  me  by 
name,  and  asked  me  if  I  would  not  help  him  pray  for 
those  mourners.  I  rose  up  and  started  to  him  and 
said,  "  I  will  try."  My  feelings  were  excited  ;  1  pitched 
my  voice  entirely  too  high  ;  I  prayed  aloud,  with  spirit 
and  animation;  but  the  understanding  wasoverpowered. 
As  it  was  on  my  first  attempt  so  it  was  now.  There 
was  a  great  shout  and  much  crying,  and  I  wound  up 
my  prayer  as  before,  by  shouting. 

After  this  I  began  to  think  more  maturely  about 
the  course  which  I  had  now  undertaken  to  pursue,  and 
as  I  had  commenced,  I  had  no  inclination  to  turn 
back  or  come  short.  I  therefore  thought  I  would  turn 
my  attention  to  the  subject  of  prayer,  and  endeavor  to 
cultivate  both  the  spirit  and  form,  in  hopes  that  I 
might  be  able  to  wind  up  my  next  without  a  shout 
from  me.  I  had  no  idea  that  my  gift  extended  any 
further  than  that  of  praying  in  public.  I  called  to 
mind  several  in  the  churches  around  who  exercised 
in  this  way,  and  I  made  them  my  patterns.  I  soon 
wore  off  my  diffidence,  and  was  willing  to  take  up  the 
cross  and  bear  it  as  a  fellow-helper  to  the  truth.  My 
brethren,  unlike  myself  on  this  subject,  now  began  to 
urge  me  to  go  a  step  further.  They  would  urge  me 
to  give  a  word  of  exhortation.  I  would  decline,  by 
saying,  "  I  have  gone  to  the  extent  of  my  gift."  Some 
4 


74  The  Life  and  Times  of 

of  them  would  urge  me  strenuously,  and  when  I 
would  continue  to  refuse,  they  would  bluff  me  off  by 
saying  :  "  Remember  Jonah,  who  fled  from  the  Lord." 
Or  by  saying:  "Don't  resist  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord, 
for  we  believe  you  will  have  to  preach  yet." 

Of  course  I  thought  differently,  and  believed  them 
to  be  mistaken.  It  is  true  I  would  sometimes  think  I 
would  rather  be  a  preacher  than  any  other  man,  more 
especially  if  I  could  preach  like  those  who  were  wield- 
ing the  sword  of  the  Spirit  with  a  masterly  hand. 
But  that  was  a  calling  too  high  for  me,  and  I  thought 
that  I  had  none  of  the  essential  qualifications  of  a  ^ 
minister  of  the  Gospel.  I  had  neither  the  mental  or 
acquired  ability.  And  above  all,  I  felt  conscious  that 
I  had  not  as  yet  received  what  I  then  conceived  to  be 
the  internal  call. 

I  was  now  in  my  twenty-second  year,  and  it  be- 
hooved me  to  begin  to  think  and  act  for  myself  in  re- 
gard to  my  duty  to  my  God,  to  myself,  and  to  society. 
In  my  non-age  I  had  a  father  to  provide  for  my  tem- 
poral wants.  I  must  now  set  out  upon  the  rough  sea 
of  life  and  steer  my  own  boat. 

This  was  a  very  trying  time  in  mv  history.  I  was 
poor,  but  had  come  by  it  honestly.  I  had  inherited  it 
from  my  parents.  My  education  was  very  limited, 
but  as  good  as  my  parents  were  able  to  give  me.  My 
constitution  was  feeble.  I  would  think  of  trying  to 
get  my  living  by  farming,  but  the  lands  were  poor, 
and  no  one  to  labor  but  myself,  and  I  would  become 
discouraged.  Again,  I  would  think  of  spending  what 
little  I  had  of  this  world's  goods  in  trying  to  obtain 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  75 

an  education,  and  then  teach  school  for  a  living;  but 
I  was  now  getting  too  old  to  go  to  school.  My  friends 
would  advise  ine,  and  their  advice  was  as  various  as 
the  workings  of  my  own  mind. 

I  think  it  was  about  this  period  of  my  life  that  I 
heard  a  sermon  preached  from  this  text:  "In  all  thy 
ways  acknowledge  him,  and  he  shall  direct  thy  paths." 

I  felt  a  desire  to  submit  ray  case  to  the  will  of  the 
Lord,  but  knew  not  how.  I  prayed- to  the  Lord  to  di- 
rect me  in  all  my  movements.  I  knew  not  then,  but 
think  I  know  now,  how  the  providential  hand  of  God 
directed  me. 


CHAPTER  VI 


^ 


It  was  during  this  year  that  brother  Dowd  conceived 
the  idea  of  getting  up  a  school  at  his  own  home,  for 
the  purpose  of  educating  young  men  for  usefulness. 
Brother  Dowd's  explanation  of  his  object  to  me  was 
this:  "1  have  sought  out  a  number  of  young  men, 
mostly  members  of  the  different  churches  under  my 
pastoral  care,  whom  I  desire  to  go  to  school  and  pre- 
pare themselves  to  be  useful  members  of  society,  hop- 
ing that  some  of  them  may,  after  awhile,  become  min- 
isters of  the  Gospel." 

I  was  reminded  of  the  fact  that  I  was  one  of  that 
number,  and  urged  upon  by  brother  Dowd  to  go  to 
school.     Great  difficulties  rose  up  in   my   way.     The 


76  The  Life  and  Times  of 

cost  of  board  and  tuition  ;  the  time  required  to  accom- 
plish the  object.  And  in  spite  of  all  that  I  could  say, 
or  brother  Dowd  either,  my  companions  and  friends 
would  have  their  own  opinion,  that  I  was  going  to 
school  to  learn  to  preach.  I  knew  that  was  not  my 
object,  yet  I  dreaded  the  reproach  which  that  impres- 
sion would  bring  upon  me. 

Notwithstanding  all  those  difficulties,  I  made  up 
my  mind  to  go  to  school.  Brother  Dowd  failed  to 
make  up  his  school  ;  the  reason  a?signed  was  that  the 
young  men  preferred  getting  married  to  going  to 
school.  Only  two  were  willing  to  make  the  sacrifice. 
I  had  made  my  arrangements  to  go,  and  was  much 
disappointed  when  I  learned  the  result.  I  knew  not 
what  course  to  pursue,  but  conclud-ed  that  I  would  go 
and  consult  brother  Dowd  as  to  what  I  had  best  do. 
He  advised  me  to  go  to  school  at  all  hazards,  and 
promised  to  assist  me  in  making  arrangements  to  do 
so.  He  said  that  brother  George  W.  Thompson  was 
teaching  school  at  an  academ}^  in  the  district  of  Wake 
Forest,  and  that  he  was  very  certain  that  I  could  get 
in  as  a  student.  He  also  promised  to  ascertain  in  a 
few  days  and  let  me  know.  The  arrangement  was 
made,  and  I  was  to  start  to  school  in  February,  1839. 
Many  of  my  friends  and  relatives  dissuaded  me,  and 
feared  that  I  would  regret  it  when  too  late.  I  have 
no  doubt  as  to  the  purity  of  their  motives.  They 
were  illiterate  men,  and  knew  not  the  advantages 
of  an  education.  One  good  brother,  a  deacon  of 
the  church,  too,  advised  me  to  read  my  Bible,  and  ex- 
ercise in  prayer  and  exhortation,  believing,  as  he  said, 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  77 

that  to  be  the  best  course  for  me  to  pursue.  He  said 
that  he  was  fearful  education  would  cool  down  or 
blunt  my  zeal,  and  thus  injure  m}'  usefulness.  I  told 
him  that  I  had  no  idea  of  preaching  or  trying  to 
preach.  He  asked  me  if  I  should  feel  it  my  duty  to 
try  to  preach  if  I  would  not  yield  to  my  convictions. 
I  told  liim  that  I  would  yield  to  a  sense  of  duty  on 
that  or  any  other  subject;  but  that  if  I  should  ever 
feel  it  to  be  my  duty  to  preach  I  should  greatly  need 
an  education,  and  had  no  idea  that  I  should  ever  re- 
gret going  to  school  if  I  should  ever  be  called  to 
preach. 

I  soon  made  my  arrangements  to  leave  my  father's 
house  to  go  to  school.  I  had  told  my  father  that  I 
desired  what  little  he  was  able  to  give  me  to  be  given 
in  that  way.  I  had  a  fine  mare  which  my  father  had 
given  me.  I  told  him  to  sell  her  and  pay  my  board 
and  tuition  for  the  first  ten  months'  schooling,  which 
was  done. 

I  had  never  left  home  but  for  a  few  days  at  a  time, 
and  I  found  it  hard  to  cut  loose  from  those  endearing 
ties  which  bind  kindred  hearts  together.  But  I  must 
now  leave  my  kindred  and  friends,  and  go  to  a  strange 
neighborhood,  some  thirty  five  or  forty  miles  from 
home,  to  commence  the  study  of  my  native  language, 
for  T  knew  nothing  of  English  grammar,  history,  or 
geography.  And  as  to  definition,!  had  never  studied  it. 

I  was  soon  introduced  to  brother  Thompson,  and 
became  a  pupil  in  his  school.  I  boarded  with  John  M. 
Fleming,  Esq.,  of  Wake.  In  him  and  his  excellent 
wife  I   found  two  good  and   steady    friends.      They 


78  The  Life  and  Times  of 

treated  me  like  a  father  and  mother.     I  never  shall 
forget  their  kindness  to  me  while  memory  is  retained. 

I  have  learned  that  Mr.  Fleming  died  some  few 
years  ago.  I  hope  and  pray  that  the  Lord  will  be  a 
husband  to  his  dear  companion,  and  give  her  grace  to 
bear  up  under  all  her  bereavements;  and  may  his  sur- 
viving children  make  their  father's  God  their  God  ; 
and  may  they  find  Him  a  stronghold  in  the  day  of 
trouble,  and  a  very  present  help  in  every  time  of 
need. 

I  feel  a  delicacy  in  speaking  much  about  my  worthy 
preceptor,  George  W.  Thompson.  Nothing  that  I  can 
say  will  add  much  to  his  worthy  name  and  character. 
He  is  well  known  as  a  truly  christian  gentleman.  As 
a  teacher  of  youth,  his  name  stood  high.  He  has  had 
the  pleasure  and  satisfaction  of  seeing  many  of  his 
former  students  promoted  to  stations  of  honor,  and 
several  have  become  ministers  of  the  Gospel.  I  shall 
ever  hold  him  in  grateful  remembrance. 

A  great  change  was  now  commencing  in  my  history, 
though  unperceived  by  me  at  the  time.  The  neigh- 
borhood in  which  I  was  raised  was  illiterate,  thie  peo- 
ple generally  poor  but  honest  and  moral.  The  people 
in  the  district  of  Wake  Forest  were  generally  well  ed- 
ucated, and  many  of  them  wealthy.  The  state  of  so- 
ciety was  quite  different  from  that  I  had  been  accus- 
tomed to.  Indeed,  this  part  of  Wake  county  was 
noted  at  that  time  as  surpassing  any  other  neighbor- 
hood in  refinement,  good  society  and  wealth.  I  felt 
somewhat  embarrassed  for  awhile,  but  soon  became 
iamiliar  with  the  customs  and  fashions  of  the  neigh- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  79 

borhood.  Indeed,  I  was  treated  with  ae  much  respect 
as  if  I  had  been  the  son  of  some  wealthy  man.  I  soon 
formed  acquaintances,  .and  made  friends  of  the  people 
generally.  I  become  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
families  of  the  Crenshaws,  Thompsons,  Dunns,  Rog- 
erses,  Gills,  Cooks,  Ferrells,  Joneses,  and  others.  I  also 
became  acquainted  with  several  of  the  college  stu- 
dents. It  was  in  this  year  that  W.  T.  Brooks  and 
Pritchard  graduated,  and  some  others. 

During  the  ten  months  in  which  I  attended  brother 
Thompson's  school,  I  studied  English  grammar,  his- 
tory, geography  and  arithmetic.  I  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing commendable  proficiency  in  those  studies,  and  in 
leaving,  the  school  with  a  good  name. 

My  connection  with  that  school,  and  with  the  good 
people  of  the  district,  has  served  as  a  passport  to  me 
in^all  my  visits  among  strangers  in  different  neigh- 
borhoods. 

It  was  during  this  year  that  brother  Thompson's 
health  failed,  so  that  he  declined  taking  a  school  for 
the  next  year.  I  was  anxious  to  go  to  school  one 
more  session,  and  that  would  exhaust  my  means.  I 
would  much  rather  xxave  gone  to  the  same  man  at  the 
same  place,  but  that  could  not  be  done,  as  there  would 
be  no  school  there. 

I  returned  home  to  my  father's  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  year,  and  soon  learned  that  there  was  a  good  school 
on  Rocky  River,  in  Chatham  county,  taught  by  Mr. 
Baxter  Clegg.  I  went  up  to  see  him,  and  made  ar- 
rangements to  enter  his  school.     Brother  John  C.  Wil- 


80  The  Life  and  Times  of 

son  went  with,  me,  and  we  boarded  with  Mr.  Minter 
Burns,  and  were  students  of  Pleasant  Hill  Academy, 
taught  by  Baxter  Clegg. 

Mr.  Burnes'  wife  was  sister  to  Dr.  William  Brantley. 

We  were  treated  here  like  sons.  We  cannot  forget 
the  kind  treatment  which  we  received  in  the  house  of 
Mr.  Burns  and  his  wife. 

I  continued  at  this  school  five  months,  and  received 
a  complimentary  recommendation  from  my  teacher 
in  regard  to  my  moral  and  christian  character;  also, 
in  reference  to  my  proficiency  in  English  grammar, 
geography,  history  and  arithmetic.  I  iiad  also  formed 
a  large  circ'e  of  acquaintances  in  that  neighborhood, 
and  gained  many  strong  friends.  This  was  in  the 
year  of  1840  I  now  returned  home  to  my  father's 
again,  where  I  soon  niade  up  a  school,  and  taught  five 
months.  I  received  a  communication  from  brother 
Dowd  to  come  down  to  his  house  and  board  with  him, 
and  teach  school  in  his  neighborhood.  This  was  in  the 
latter  part  of  1840.  In  a  short  time  the  arrangements 
were  made  and  I  commenced  teaching  school  near 
brother  Davvd's,  and  boarded  in  his  family.  I  com- 
menced in  the  early  part  of  the  year  1841.  I  taught 
a  school  there  the  greater  portion  of  this  year,  and 
boarded  all  the  time  with  brother  Dowd's  family. 
This  year  was  a  very  pleasant  and  agreeable  period  of 
my  life.  I  found  brother  Dowd  as  agreeable  at  home 
as  I  had  found  him  at  other  places.  His  wife  was  also 
very  kind,  interesting,  and  motherly  to  me.  His  two 
oldest  sons  were  quite  small,  but  they  both  went  to 
school  to  me.     Henry  A.  Dowd,  his  oldest  son,  was  one 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  81 

of  the  kindest  hearted  boys  I  ever  saw,  but  too  com- 
pLicent  for  his  own  good.  William  C.  Dowd,  his 
second  son,  was  a  boy  of  great  firmness;  he  was  steady 
in  all  his  pursuits  and  succeeded  well.  He  graduated 
at  the  State  University  and  died  soon  after.  I  have 
sometimes  felt  a  little  proud  that  I  had  the  honor  of 
laying  the  foundation  of  their  education. 

It  was  during  this  year  that  brother  Dowd  tried  to 
sound  me  on  the  subject  of  preaching  the  Gospel.  I 
had  now  formed  ray  plan  and  selected  my  occupation, 
which  was  to  cultivate  a  small  farm  in  spring  and 
summer,  and  teach  school  in  the  fall  and  winter.  I 
had  no  idea  that  I  should  ever  try  to  preach,  but  felt 
that  I  could  promote  the  cause  of  religion  better  in 
some  other  way.  I  believed  that  I  could  do  more  good 
in  prayer  meetings  and  Sabbath  schools  than  I  could 
evej  thfnk  of  doing  in  trying  to  preach  ;  and  more 
than  all,  I  had  no  idea  as  yet  that  I  had  .ver  received 
a  special  call  to  the  ministry.  So  when  brother  Dowd 
would  approach  me  on  that  subject  I  would  tell  him 
that  it  was  not  my  duty  to  preach,  for  that  I  had  never 
received  the  special  or  internal  call.  He  would  ask 
me  my  opinion  about  the  special  or  internal  call  and 
I  would  ask  his.  On  one  occasion  it  seemed  to  me 
that  he  tried  to  shape  his  explanation  on  that  subject 
on  purpose  to  take  me  in.  I  felt  a  little  irritated,  and 
said:  "Brother  Dowd,  I  am  sorry  to  think  that  you  and 
many  others  will  be  so  badly  mistaken  about  me. 
You  and  a  number  of  other  persons  have  expressed 
your  opinion  that  you  will  one  day  hear  me  preach ; 
and  I  feel  certain  that  you  will  all  be  disappointed." 


82  The  Life  and  Times  op 

Brother  Dowd  replied  by  saying :  "  Well,  you  caay  say 
what  you  please  and  believe  as  you  please,  but  ray 
opinion  is  that  you  will  have  to  preach."  After  this 
I  do  not  recollect  that  he  ever  spoke  to  me  any  more 
on  that  subject  while  I  boarded  with  him.  I  had  ap- 
pointed and  held  some  few  prayer  meetings,  and  felt 
a  willingness  to  assist  in  opening  conference  meetings 
in  the  absence  of  the  minister,  but  preaching  was  out 
of  the  question  with  me, 

I  was  now  about  to  change  my  manner  of  life.  I  was 
going  to  get  married  to  a  lad}^  to  whom  I  had  been 
paying  my  addresses  for  several  years,  and  who  had 
waited  as  patiently  for  me  as  Rachel  did  for  old  Ja- 
cob. So  on  the  23d  day  of  December,  1841,  I  was 
married  to  Miss  Martha  Hunter,  daughter  of  the  late 
Alsey  Hunter,  of  Wake  county.  This  lady,  like  my- 
self, had  but  a  very  limited  education,  and  but  few 
opportunities  for  improvement  of  any  kind.  She  pos- 
sessed some  valuable  qualities :  a  strong  constitution, 
good  natural  sense,  patience,  and  industrial  habits. 
Indeed,  I  have  never  had  cause  to  regret  my  marriage 
to  her.  Many  of  my  brethren  and  friends  thought 
that  I  had  acted  strangely  in  spending  three  years  in 
going  to  school  and  teaching  school  to  get  just  where 
I  was  in  1838.  They  said  I  could  have  married  and 
settled  down  on  my  little  farm  three  years'  ago  just  as 
well  as  I  could  now,  and  if  I  intended  to  get  my  liv- 
ing by  labor  it  would  have  been  better  for  me  to  have 
done  so,  as  I  was  no  better  off  in  the  world  now  than  I 
was  then.  It  seemed  as  if  their  hopes  and  prospects 
were  cut  ofif  as  to  my  future  usefulness  in  the  cause  of 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  83 

Christ.  I,  however,  felt  that  I  could  go  to  the  extent 
of  my  call  as  well  in  my  present  position  as  in  any 
other,  for  I  would  attend  to  my  church  meetings,  and 
always  be  ready  to  bear  my  portion  of  the  expenses  of 
the  church,  and  officiate  in  prayer  and  praise. 

I  went  to  work,  and  felt  very  pleasantly  situated  for 
a  time  ;  but  sometime  during  the  summer  of  1842  I 
became  very  much  concerned  upon  the  subject  of  the 
ministry.  As  I  would  be  following  my  plow  I  would 
think  of  a  passage  of  scripture  and  meditate  o)i  its 
meaning  and  try  to  give  to  it  its  true  interpretation, 
and  sometimes  I  would  become  so  much  taken  up  with 
this  exercise  of  mind  that  I  would  unconsciously  speak 
out  my  thoughts.  Then  I  would  think  surely  I  am 
out  of  my  line  of  duty,  for  I  am  not  following  out  my 
plan  of  life.  I  would  drop  the  subject  and  whistle  or 
sing  while  following  my  plow.  Again  a  text  of  Scrip- 
ture would  present  itself  to  my  mind  with  such  force 
and  light  that  I  must  consider  its  true  interpretation. 
I  would  often  think  if  I  were  a  preacher  how  I  would 
explain  that  passage. 

After  a  while  I  became  restless  for  fear  that  my 
plans  were  about  to  fall  through;  for  it  seemed  to  me 
that  the  subject  of  preaching  was  continually  before 
me.  I  tried  to  attribute  it  to  the  temptations  of  the 
devil,  who  was  endeavoring  to  get  me  to  undertake 
something  I  could  not  accomplish,  and  then  all  who 
beheld  me  would  say  this  man  commenced  building 
but  was  not  able  to  finish.  About  this  time  1  went  to 
meeting  one  Sabbath.  Brother  James  Dennis  preached. 
He  called  on  me  to  pray  at  the  close  of  his  sermon. 


84  The  Life  and  Times  of 

After  the  Qieeting  was  dismissed  brother  Dennis  came  to 
me  and  said  :  "  Brother  Olive,  don't  quench  the  Spirit; 
if  you  do  you  will  re[)ent  it ;  and  I  fear  you  have  been 
doing  it  already.  My  impression  is  that  the  Lord  has 
a  work  for  you  to  do,  and  you  had  better  do  it."  I 
thought  very  strange  of  these  remark?,  as  I  had  never 
told  any  human  being  what  had  been  going  on  in  my 
mind  for  some  weeks  or  months.  How  should  he  have 
any  idea  of  my  situation. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  when  J  became  so  restless 
that  concealment  was  imi)racticable.  I  first  opened 
my  mind  on  this  subject  to  ray  wife.  I  told  her  that 
things  were  working  differently  from  my  expectation  ; 
that  I  had  told  her  that  I  never  expected  to  try  to 
preach,  but  now  it  seemed  I  must  try  at  all  hazards. 
She  asked  me  if  I  thought  1  could  preach?  To  which 
I  replied  :  "  I  don't  know  that  I  can,  but  feel  that  I  must 
try,  as  nothing  short  of  a  trial  will  ever  relieve  my 
mind."  I  was  at  this  time  very  unhaf»py;  my  former 
plans  of  life  seemed  to  be  falling  through,  and  I  must 
now  enter  upon  an  untried  course,  not  knowing 
whether  I  should  succeed  or  fail  in  my  undertaking. 
I  had,  however,  become  willing  to  bear  the  reproach, 
if  any,  and  the  shame,  loo,  even  though  I  should  make 
a  failure.  Peace  of  mind  was  what  I  desired,  and  to 
have  a  conscience  void  of  offence  both  toward  God  and 
man  was  my  highest  ambition,  for  with  that  I  would 
be  happy,  but  without  it  I  must  be  miserable.  I  there- 
fore told  my  wife  I  would  make  the  effort,  and  if  I 
failed  and  became  convinced  that  I  was  wrong  or  mis^ 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  85 

taken  in  wbal  I  then  conceived  to  be  my  duty,  I  would 
instantly  desist  and  return  to  my  former  plan  of  life. 


CHAPTER  VII 


./ 


I  soon  made  an  appointment  to  hold  a  meeting  at  a 
church.    I  made  no  appointment  to  preach,  but  inten- 
ded to  try  when  the  time  arrived.     The  day  came  and 
Iw^asthere;  a  good  congregation  also  met,  as  I  sup- 
posed, to  hear  what  I  would  have  to  say.     After  sing- 
ing and  prayer,  I  read  a  portion  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
then  commenced   talking  about  what  I  had  just  read. 
I  thus  came   to   my  text,    without  announcing   it  as 
a  text,    and    made  the  best   of    it   I    could.      I   en- 
joyed   more  liberty  in  speaking  than    I  had    antici- 
pated.    After    the   services    were   over   I    started    for 
home.     I  had  seldom,  if  ever,   felt   more  pleasant  in 
mind   than  I  did   then.     I  felt  that  I  had   discharged 
my   duty,  and   the  consciousness  of  having  done  so 
gave  to  me  a  peace  of  mind   which  the  world  cannot 
bestow.     I  had  not  gone  far  before  the  tempter  came 
to  interfere  with  my  haf)py  frame  of  mind.     He  asked 
me  if  I  thought  I  could   preach   again    that  evening. 
My  answer  was  "  no."  "Then,"  said  the  tempter,  "you 
can  never  be  a  preacher ;  for   preachers  often    preach 
two  or  three  times  in  a  day  ;  and  now,"  said  he,  "  sup- 
pose you  had  an  appointment  to  preach  to-night,  what 
would  you  do;  would  you  try  to  preach   or  not?"    I 
felt  as  empty  as  a  gun  which  has  just  been  discharged 
of  its  load,  and  as  barren  as  a  tree  whose  fruit  has  all 


86  The  Life  and  Times  of 

fallen  off.  He  further  said,  if  it  was  my  duty  to  preach 
I  would  not  feel  thus,  but  I  would  always  be  ready- 
in  season  and  out  of  season — always  abounding  in 
the  work  of  the  Lord. 

I  began  to  think  that  I  never  should  try  again,  for 
that  the  burden  which  had  been  rolled  on  my  mind 
was  now  rolled  off,  and  there  was  nothing  more  for  me 
to  do  in  the  way  of  preaching.  The  news  was  now 
circulating  through  the  surrounding  country  that  I 
had  preached  an  excellent  sermon;  and  the  hopes  and 
expectations  of  many  were  raised  very  high.  I  was 
not  ignorant  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  public  mind. 
But  according  to  my  feelings  for  a  few  days  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  had  preached  my  first  and  last  sermon, 
for  my  stock  of  preaching  was  exhausted.  This  state 
of  mind,  however,  did  not  last  long.  The  burden  be- 
gan to  roll  on  again  ;  the  leaven  of  preaching  began 
to  work  again,  and  I  soon  felt  anxious  for  the  time  to 
come  for  me  to  roll  off  the  burden  which  I  felt  the 
Lord  had  rolled  on  my  mind.  Thus  I  followed  up  my 
appointments  for  some  time.  1  was  also  often  re- 
quested to  fill  appointments  for  other  ministers,  which 
I  frequently  did.  My  church  soon  took  notice  of  me, 
and  passed  an  order  of  conference  to  grant  me  license 
to  preach  wherever  the  providence  of  God  should  call 
me  to  go.  Written  license  I  never  had,  as  ray  labors 
were  confined  within  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance. 
As  such  I  never  called  for  them.  These  things  took 
place  about  the  date  of  1843.  I  will  here  state  that  at 
the  time  I  commenced  trying  to  preach  there  was  no 
revival  of  religion  in  the  neighborhood  where  I  lived. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  87 

The  love  of  many  who  had  joined  the  church  about 
the  time  I  did  now  seemed  to  wax  cold.  There  was 
nothing  perceptible  tostimulate  me  in  this  undertaking 
but  the  workings  of  God's  Spirit  upon  my  mind.  This 
operated  on  me  both  by  day  and  by  night,  in  many 
respects  similar  to  the  workings  of  the  same  Spirit 
j{)on  my  heart  and  mind  when  I  was  under  convic- 
tion for  sin.  I  could  not  be  contented  to  let  the  sub- 
ject alone.  I  must  consider  it,  and  the  more  I  thought 
about  it  the  more  I  felt  it  to  be  my  duty  to  make  the 
effort. 

From  the  time  I  commenced  trying  to  preach  till 
I  was  ordained  to  the  ministry   was  a  period  of  about 
five  years.  During  this  time  I  continued  trying  to  dis- 
charge my  duty  as  a  licentiate  preacher.     It  is  true  I 
met  with  some  difficulties,  but  those  difficulties  per- 
tained mostly  to  myself.     I  was  naturally  timid  and 
diffident.     My  weakness  and  imperfections   crowded 
upon  me,  and  in  some  few  instances  I  was  discouraged 
by  brethren  who  said  I  was  too  much  of  an  Arminian. 
But  as  a  general  thing,  I  am  certain  that  I  passed  for 
more  than  my  worth.     Many  persons  would  speak  in 
high  terms  of  commendation  to  my  face.   This  always 
made  me  feel  unpleasani,  and  I  am  certain  they  acted 
very  imprudently   in  doing  so,  for   I  was   conscious 
that  the  expectations  of  both  church  and  people  were 
raised  too  high  ia  regard  to  my  gifts  in  the  ministry. 
I  was  often  urged  by   my   church  to  accept  of  ordina- 
tion.  The  same  thing  was  urged   upon   me  by  other 
churches  and  many  brethren.     I  would  reply  by  say- 
ing, I  have  all  the  liberty  that  I  desire ;  I  can  preach 


88  The  Life  and  Times  of 

» 
wherever  the  providence  of  God  calls  me  to  go.  In 
this  way  ray  ordination  was  deferred  for  four  or  five 
years.  For  some  two  years  previous  to  my  ordination 
I  was  preaching  statedly  at  different  churches,  which 
were  without  pastors,  and  as  I  could  not  administer 
the  ordinances  the  churches  were  left  in  an  awkward 
position.  They  were  sometimes  put  to  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  and  delay  to  get  a  minister  to  administer  the 
ordinance  of  baptism.  It  was  owing  to  this,  more  than 
to  anything  else,  that  I  consented  to  be  sent  up  to  the 
Association  in  1847  to  be  examined  and  if  found 
worthy  to  be  ordained.  I  was  this  year  preaching  at 
Shady  Grove  and  Holly  Springs,  and  I  think  at  Bell's 
Church.  The  brethren  treated  me  with  due  respect 
and  brotherly  love.  ^  Large  congregations  generally  at- 
tended on  the  Sabbath  ;  and  I  had  the  satisfaction  to 
believe  that  I  had  the  good  will  and  confidence  of  all 
classes.  I  felt  some  reluctance  in  taking  upon  myself 
the  responsibilites  of  an  ordained  minister,  but  the 
state  of  things  seemed  to  demand  it,  and  to  the  re- 
quest and  entreaty  of  my  church  and  brethren  I 
yielded. 

Myself  and  brother  James  C.  Marcom  were  both 
sent  up  to  the  Raleigh  Association  in  the  year  1847, 
to  be  examined  for  ordination.  We  were  both  exam- 
amined  together,  by  all  the  ministers  present,  in  the 
presence  of  the  whole  Association.  I  was  ordained 
there  and  then,  by  prayer  and  imposition  of  hands, 
and  brother  Marcom  was  found  worthy,  but  at  the 
special  request  of  his  church  he  was  sent  back  to  his 
church  to  be  ordained  there.     A  presbytery  was  ap- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  89 

pointed  at  the  Association  for  the  purpose,  who  soon 
after  met  at  his  church  and  ordained  him.  It  was  a 
serious  and  solemn  time  with  me,  for  I  felt  that  the 
vows  of  God  were  upon  me.  The  Association  was  held 
this  vear  with  the  church  at  Cumberland  Union,  Cum- 
berland  (now  Harnett)  county,  North  Carolina. 

Having  been  ordained  to  the  Gospel  ministry  in  the 
presence  of  the  Raleigh  Association  by  the  wnrlhy 
ministers  present,  who  were  the  following,  viz :  Joh!i 
Purefoy,  William  Jones,  James  Purefoy,  D.  L.  Wil- 
liams, S.  Senter,  Ezekiel  Holland,  Robert  I.  Devin 
and  James  Dennis,  and  recommended  by  them  as  a 
faithful  minister  of  the  Gospel  of  the  Baptist  denomi- 
nation, I  felt  under  the  strongest  obligation  to  God  and 
to  them  to  endeavor  to  carry  out  the  charge  that  was 
given  by  my  aged  father  in  the  ministry,  John  Pure- 
foy. I  had  thus  received  a  passport  from  them  to  give 
me  access  to  the  churches  and  to  the  denomination  at 
large.  I  desired  to  be  enabled  rightly  to  divide  the 
word  of  truth,  giving  to  each  class  of  hearers  their 
portion  in  due  season.  I  must  therefore  study  to  show 
myself  approved.  I  was  very  soon  called  to  take  the 
pastoral  care  of  four  churches.  Shady  Grove,  Holly 
Springs,  Mount  Pisgah  and  Cedar  Fork. 

I  was  young  in  the  ministry  and  inexperienced,  but 
I  intended  to  do  the  best  I  could.  I  hired  a  man  to 
cultivate  my  farm,  and  I  gave  myself  up  to  the  min- 
istry. I  studied  the  Scriptures  and  read  religious 
books,  and  prayed  the  Lord  to  direct  my  steps  aright. 
I  continued  to  preach  for  those  churches  some  two  or 
three  years,  when  I  concluded   to   resign  my  pastoral 


90  The  Life  and  Times  of 

charge  with  two  of  them.  On  leaving  them  I  had  the 
satisfactory  evidence  that  they  had  nothing  against 
me  nor  I  against  them  ;  but  felt  that  the  circum- 
stances demanded  the  separation.  I  continued  my 
pastoral  connection  with  the  other  two,  viz :  Holly 
Springs  and  Cedar  Fork  for  eleven  years  in  succession, 
and  then  resigned  my  pastoral  connection  with  them, 
from  the  fact  that  I  had  previously  made  up  my  mind 
to  leave  this  country  and  go  west.  I  parted  with  them 
with  very  affectionate  and  tender  feelings. 

The  times  of  which  I  am  now  writing  includes  a  pe- 
riod of  twelve  years,  the  most  active  and  effective  years 
of  my  life.  Besides  the  churches  above  mentioned,  I  was 
chosen  pastor  of  Salem  Church,  Wake  county,  Mount 
Moriah,  Orange  county,  Wake  Bethel,  Wake  county, 
and  at  Olive  Chapel  I  preached  for  several  years.  I  also 
preached  a  short  time  to  the  churches  of  Mount  Mo- 
riah, in  Wake  county,  and  Ephesus,  in  the  same  county. 
These  churches  included  the  principal  field  of  my 
labors.  We  had  glorious  revivals  at  several  of  these 
churches.  At  Mount  Pisgah,  Cedar  Fork,  Holly 
Springs,  Shady  Grove,  Olive's  Chapel  and  Salem,  there 
were  great  numbers  added  to  the  church.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  the  Lord  was  with  me  while  I  was  preach- 
ing at  those  places,  and  attended  the  word  preached 
by  the  influences  of  His' Holy  Spirit. 

I  also  preached  a  great  many  funerals  at  private 
houses,  and  married  more  persons  than  any  other  man 
who  lived  in  the  bounds  of  my  acquaintance.  The 
circle  of  my  acquaintance  was  not  very  large,  extend- 
ing mainly  to  two  or  three  counties,  but  within  those 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  91 

boundaries,  perhaps,  no  man  ever  had  more  friends 
and  fewer  enemies  than  I  did.  I  was  treated  with 
respect  and  marked  attention  wherever  I  went.  The 
expression  was  often  made,  both  by  church  and  world, 
that  there  was  a  woe  in  reserve  for  me,  because  all 
men  spoke  well  of  me;  however  this  may  be,  we  will 
see  by  and  by. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


/ 


Perhaps  the  reader  would  like  to  know  some  of  the 
maxims  of  life  which  helped  to  bring  about  the  favor- 
able opinion  entertained  by  all  classes  towards  me. 
I  state  this  in  no  spirit  of  boasting.  In  the  first  place, 
I  determined  when  quite  young  that  I  would  never 
act  or  speak  in  a  manner  to  disparage  the  character  of 
a  lady,  but  I  would  always  speak  and  act  to  their 
praise,  or  have  nothing  to  say  about  them  ;  for  I  con- 
sidered the  good  name  and  fair  fame  worth  more  to  a 
lady  than  all  earthly  good  besides.  I  also  determined 
to  speak  and  act  in  a  way  to  make  as  many  friends 
and  as  few  enemies  as  posssible.  My  motto  was  to  do 
all  the  good  I  could  and  as  little  harm  as  possible.  I 
would  often  think  of  that  passage  of  Scripture  which 
says,  if  it  be  possible  live  peaceably  with  all  men. 
My  motive  was  not  to  court  personal  applause,  but  to 
ingratiate  myself  into  the  esteem  and  affections  of  the 
people,  in  order  that  I  might  be  the  better  prepared  to 
,    produce  a  favorable  impression   on   their  minds  upon 


92  The  Life  and  Times  of 

the  subject  of  religion.  I  was  of  the  opinion  that 
unless  I  had  their  confidence  and  good  will  I  should 
not  be  able  to  do  them  any  material  good  ;  for  no  man 
can  expect  to  accomplish  much  good  except  the  people 
have  confidence  in  him.  Another  reason  why  I  rose 
so  high  and  stood  so  fair  in  the  estimation  of  the  peo- 
ple generally  was,  that  I  had  no  inclination  or  taste 
for  religious  controversy.  I  was  firm*  and  fixed  in  my 
own  religious  sentiments,  both  in  regard  to  doctrine 
and  practice,  but  did  not  indulge  in  faultfinding  with 
those  who  differed  with  me.  I  felt  that  I  could  accom- 
plish more  good  in  a  friendly  and  conciliating  manner 
than  I  would  be  likely  to  do  in  any  other.  From  this 
fact  more  than  any  other  I  was  held  in  high  respect 
with  other  denominations.  They  would  invite  me  to 
preach  in  their  pulpits,  and  frequently  call  on  me  to 
preach  the  funeral  of  their  departed  loved  ones,  and 
perform  ^the  ceremony  of  marriage  in  their  families. 
Another  reason  why  I  fared  so  well  and  escaped  per- 
secution v^as  that  I  had  a  very  large  family  connec- 
tion both  on  my  father's  and  mother's  side,  and  they 
were  generally  of  good  moral  and  religious  standing. 
Also,  when  I  married,  my  wife  had  a  large  family 
connection  who  stood  equally  fair  with  my  own,  and 
in  addition  to  all  this  we  botii  had  a  number  of  strong 
personal  friends.  My  labors  were  confined  within  the 
limits  of  those  influences.  Those  relatives  and  friends 
forming  a  wall  or  hedge  around  me  saved  me  from 
many  a  fiery  dart  from  my  adversary,  and  many  a  hard 
blow  from  my  enemy.  The  tongue  of  slander  could 
not  assail  me,  and  the  hand  of  persecution  was  stayed. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  93 

I  will  here  relate  a  little  conversation  which  I  had 
with  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  who  was  well  acquainted 
with  me  from  the  time  T  first  embraced  religion.  He 
said  I  had  the  smoothest  road  to  travel  of  any  min- 
ister he  ever  knew,  and  assigned  as  a  reason  for  it  the 
above  named  facts.  With  me,  said  he,  it  has  been 
quite  different;  I  have  had  a  rough  road  to  travel ; 
persecution  has  assailed  me,  and  the  tongue  of  slan- 
der has  been  busy;  if  it  had  been  you  against  whom 
they  vented  their  spite,  situated  as  you  are  and  sur- 
rounded as  you  are,  they  could  not  have  injured  you, 
for  both  church  and  people  would  have  stood  up  in 
your  defence. 

From  what  I  have  stated  in  the  foregoing  remarks, 
it  will  be  seen  that  the  lines  had  fallen  to  me  in  pleas- 
ant places;  that  my  situation  in  life,  and  the  circum- 
stances that  surrounded  me,  were  favorable  to  useful- 
ness, living  in  the  midst  of  numerous  families  of  rela- 
tives and  friends.  Those  relatives  and  friends  were 
connected  with  the  different  denominations  of  chris- 
tians, and  many  of  them  of  high  standing  in  society, 
and  wielding  a  considerable  influence  upon  the  pub- 
lic mind.  All  these  things  taken  together  rendered 
my  situation  very  desirable.  This  was  my  situation 
for  a  period  of  twelve  years  ;  that  is  while  I  was  preach- 
ing as  an  ordained  minister.  I  would  often  think  of 
my  favorable  position  in  human  life,  and  wonder  how 
I  had  gotten  there.  I  was  poor,  but  contented  and 
happy  in  my  favorable  position.  I  had  food  and  rai- 
ment for  myself  and  family,  and  was  therewith  con- 
tent.    I  would  often  ask  the  question,  what  hath  God 


94  The  Life  and  Times  of 

wrought?  He  has  taken  me  by  the  hand,  as  it  were, 
and  led  me  to  the  fountain  of  His  grace ;  He  has  taken 
me  into  His  family  and  given  me  favor  in  the'sightof 
men;  He  has  touched  my  heart  with  the  fire  of  His 
love,  and  loosed  my  tongue  to  speak  His  praise.  I  will 
remember  the  pit  from  which  I  was  dug;  the  quarry 
from  which  I  was  raised,  and  the  rock  from  which  I 
was  hewn.  It  is  the  Lord's  doings,  and  it  is  marvelous 
in  my  sight;  and  would  close  my  reverie  by  saying: 
"  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am." 

I  was  much  concerned  during  the  years  of  1857  and 
1858  about  my  family.  We  had  seven  children,  five 
sons  and  two  daughters.  My  land  was  poor  and  my 
farm  small,  and  my  children  growing  up  with  little 
education,  and  no  prospects  of  laboring  to  advantage. 

I  began  to  make  arrangements  to  leave  this  country 
and  go  to  the  far  West.  To  this  my  friends  and  rela- 
tives generally  objected,  but  their  arguments  were  not 
sufficient  to  dissuade  me  from  undertaking  it.  I  was 
conscious  that  the  Lord  had  abundantly  blessed  my 
labors  among  my  relatives  and  friends,  and  many 
seals  had  been  added  to  my  ministry.  The  churches 
where  I  preached  were  generally  in  a  flourishing  con- 
dition, and  they  were  doing  as  well  by  me  as  I  oould 
ask,  but  not  enough  to  support  ray.  growing  family 
without  other  resources.  The  brethren  would  ofien 
ask  me  my  reason  for  wanting  to  leave,  and  tell  me 
that  my  prospects  for  doing  good  were  never  brighter 
than  they  were  then,  and  that  the  confidence  of  both 
church  and  people  had  not  abated  in  the  least.  They 
bad  no  idea  that  I  would  ever  find  a  place  where  the 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  95 

advantages  and  means  of  doinu  good  would  be  as  great, 
or  even  equal,  to  what  they  were  here.  I  had  preached 
to  the  parents  and  children  for  ten  or  twelve  years, 
and  the  attacl\ments  were  very  strong.  My  manner 
of  preaching  had  been  of  a  nature  to  win  the  hearts  of 
christians  generally,  and  to  gain  the  respect  of  all 
classes  of  hearers.  (I  would  not  have  the  reader  to 
understand  that  every  body  was  pleased  with  my 
preaching,  for  there  were  always  some  to  find  fault; 
but  my  meaning  is,  that  my  preaching  was  gen- 
erally as  acceptable  to  all  classes  as  that  of  any  other 
minister.)  My  greatest  fears  were  that  the  people 
thought  more  highly  of  me  than  they  ought  to  think. 
I  was  not  so  ignorant  as  not  to  know  that  my  preach- 
ing talents  were  only  ordinary;  and  all  above  that, 
was  to  be  traced  to  other  causes.  Yet,  some  how  or 
other,  there  was  an  impression  in  the  minds  of  many 
that  I  possessed  some  extraordinary  powers,  and  it  was 
said  by  some  that  people  worshipped  me  more  than 
they  did  their  Creator.  Of  course  alT  this  was  very 
unpleasant  to  me,  but  I  could  not  help  it,  for  I  never 
sought  it,  or  desired  it  of  any  man. 

I  was  somewhat  troubled  in  my  mind  one  day  at 
the  remark  of  a  wicked  man,  when  I  was  informed 
that  he  had  been  complimenting  my  preaching,  and 
said  that  when  he  died  he  wanted  me  to  preach  his 
funeral,  for  I  could  come  as  nigh  preaching  a  man 
from  hell  to  heaven  as  any  man  he  ever  heard  ;  or  that 
I  could  do  that  if  any  other  man  could.  Now,  while 
I  knew  that  to  be  the  case,  I  did  not  approve  of  the 
manner  in  which  it  was  uttered,  and  feared   he  was 


96  The  Life  and  Times  of 

looking  more  to  the  creature  than  to  the  Creator,  to 
deliver  him  from  under  the  bondage  of  sin  and  Satan, 
and  prepare  him  for  heaven.  I  am  yet  of  the  same 
opinion.  I  have  no  doubt  that  many  people  idolized 
me,  as  they  have  many  other  men  before  me.  I 
thought  if  I  could  go  where  I  would  be  a  stranger  to 
the  people,  and  they  strangers  to  me,  those  outside  in- 
fluences would  not  have  such  an  influence  in  waving 
the  minds  of  my  hearers,  and  that  the  simple  truths 
of  the  Gospel,  attended  by  the  Spirit,  would  have  a 
more  salutar}^  effect.  My  children,  too,  would  be 
placed  where  they  could  labor  to  more  advantage  than 
they  were  like'y  to  do  here.  I  therefore  persisted  in 
my  determination  to  move  West. 

I  found  it  hard  to  cut  loose  from  my  dear  relatives 
and  friends,  and  from  those  lovely  churches,  where  I 
had  enjoyed  so  many  happy  seasons;  those  endearing 
ties,  wiiich  bind  kindred  hearts  together  seemed  to 
draw  more  closely  as  the  time  drew  nearer  for  me  to 
wind  up  my  concerns  here.  I  however  sold  my  little 
land  and  home,  hoping  to  be  better  prepared  to  leave 
in  a  short  time. 

This  was  in  1859.  But  very  soon  affliction  in  my 
family  put  this  matter  off  for  a  longer  time.  My 
arrangements  all  fell  through.  I  had  a  little  son  who- 
had  been  an  invalid  for  several  years,  but  while  there 
were  no  prospects  of  his  ever  being  sound  and  healthy, 
he  appeared  to  be  improving.  The  health  of  our 
oldest  child  now  became  delicate,  her  constitution 
rapidly  gave  way,  and  in  a  short  time  she  was  so  feeble 
that  I  could  not  think  of  leaving,   with   two  of  our 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  97 

children  so  unwell  as  to  appear  more  like  dying  than 
living.  Thus  I  was  under  the  necessity  of  looking  out 
for  another  home  for  my  family,  as  I  had  made  way 
with  our  present  home.  I  rode  about  in  the  surround- 
ing country  for 'some  weeks,  looking  for  a  suitable 
home  for  myself  and  family.  There  was  no  difficulty 
in  finding  a  place  that  would  suit  me  in  my  calling 
as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  but  to  find  a  place  suita- 
ble for  my  boys  to  labor  to  advantage,  and  have  an 
opportunity  of  going  to  school,  was  not  so  easy.  I 
made  this  memorable  remark  before  I  succeeded  in 
getting  a  place:  "If  I  ever  get  another  home,  I  will 
never  turn  myself  and  family  out  of  doors  again." 

Late  in  the  fall  of  1859  I  bought  a  home  some  four- 
teen miles  south-east  of  where  I  formerly  lived.  There 
were  some  things  connected  with  the  location  which 
suited  me  very  well,  and  others  were  very  unfavor- 
able. The  land  w^as  much  better  suited  to  farming 
than  where  I  had  been  living,  and  the  society  was 
equally  as  good,  and  one  of  the  most  peaceable  neigh- 
borhoods in  the  county  of  Wake.  All  this  was  favor- 
able;  but  I  was  now  to  be  further  removed  from  the 
churches  and  people  with  whom  I  had  been  so  long 
intimate,  and  w^ould  have  to  ride  some  distance  to  at- 
tend my  appointments. 

I  moved  my  family  to  the  place  where  I  now  live  a 
few  days  before  Christmas,  1859.  My  daughter's  health 
seemed  to  improve  some;  our  little  son  continued 
about  the  same.  The  time  was  drawing  near  for  me 
to  enter  upon  a  new  period  in  the  history  of  my  life, 
but  I  was  not  aware  of  it  till  some  few  months  had 
passed.  5 


98  The  Life  and  Times  of 

I  commenced  making  arrangements  for  farming  by 
clearing  up  brier  patches  and  re|>airing  fences  during 
the  forepart  of  the  year  1860.  I  had  also  promised  to 
preach  tor  three  or  lour  churches  monthly.  These 
churches  were  ten,  twelve  and  fifteen  miles  from  home. 
I  was  closely  engaged  at  home  five  days  in  the  week, 
trying  to  prepare  for  my  boys  to  make  a  crop.  I  had 
but  little  time  to  read  or  study,  except  at  night.  When 
Saturday  morning  came  I  must  start  early  in  order  to 
be  at  the  meeting-house  in  time,  and  the  most  of  my 
preparations  for  preaching  were  made  while  riding 
along  to  my  appointments.  I  generally  felt  poorly 
prepared  for  the  services,  but  always  did  the  best  I 
could  under  the  circumstances  in  which  I  found  my- 
self placed.  My  presence  was  greatly  needed  at  home, 
for  our  little  afflicted  son  was  almost  as  helpless  as  an 
infant,  and  the  delicate  health  of  our  daughter  ren- 
dered her  unable  to  do  much  for  the  benefit  of  the 
family.  Thus  the  burden  was  loo  heavy  for  my  dear 
wife  to  bear  without  assistance.  Her  health  and  courage 
seemed  to  be  giving  way.  I  always  assisted  her  as  well 
as  I  knew  how  when  I  was  at  home,  but  being  fre- 
quently called  off  to  preach  funerals,  and  to  marry 
young  people,  as  well  as  attend  my  regular  appoint- 
ments, the  labors  of  my  wife  were  more  than  she  was 
able  to  bear. 

In  this  way  days  and  weeks  and  months  passed 
away  before  I  discovered  any  material  change  in  my- 
self. I  had  long  been  inclined  to  bow  in  humble  sub- 
mission to  the  Providences  of  God,  and  never  to 
mourn  or  grieve  for  that  over  which  I  had  no  control. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  99 

I  knew  that  the  affliction  of  our  children  was  a  provi- 
dential thing,  and  I  could  only  pray  th^t  it  might  be 
sanctified  to  our  good  ;  and  of  course  it  was  my  heart's 
desire  and  prayer  to  God  that  they  might  be  restored 
to  health.  But  to  think  of  mourning  or  complaining, 
as  many  did  under  such  circumstances,  never  entered 
my  mind,  as  I  have  any  recollection.  Of  course  I  felt 
some  unpleasant  forebodings  with  respect  to  my  chil- 
dren and  wife,  but  as  to  myself  I  felt  that  I  was  pre- 
pared for  whatever  event  might  occur,  for  I  believed 
that  I  was  rooted  and  grounded  in  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity,  both  in  spirit  and  letter.  I  had  often 
expressed  myself  to  be  resigned  to  the  will  of  the 
Lord,  under  any  and  all  circumstances,  and  was  hon- 
est and  sincere  in  all  my  expressions.  But  I  was  rap- 
idly approaching  a  crisis  in  my  history  of  which  I 
was  perfectly  ignorant,  and  for  which  I  would  find 
myself  unprepared  by  the  decision  of  my  own  judg- 
ment. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  this  year  I  began  to  feel  as  I 
had  never  felt  before  since  I  began  to  preach.  My 
mind  seemed  to  be  locked  up  on  the  subject.  I  found 
great  difficulty  in  selecting  a  text,  and  when  I  had 
found  one,  the  same  difficulty  was  found  in  trying  to 
keep  my  mind  upon  it  for  any  length  of  time;  and 
not  unfrequently  every  connection  of  thought  upon  a 
text  of  Scripture  would  vanish  from  my  mind,  and  I 
would  be  under  the  necessity  of  looking  out  for  an- 
other. And  sometimes  this  would  be  the  case  just  be- 
fore the  hour  of  preaching.  My  mind  would  appear 
dark  and  barren,  so  that   I   would   experience  great 


100  The  Life  and  Times  of 

difficulty  in  my  attempts  to  preach.  The  cross  be- 
came heavy  and  burdensome,  though  I  felt  that  I  must 
bear  it,  for  to  think  of  loosening  my  hands  from  the 
Gospel  plow  after  having  followed  it  so  long  was  un- 
welcome to  me.  Yet  to  continue  to  try  to  preach  in 
that  state  of  mind  and  spirit  was  equally  intolerable. 

I  soon  began  to  dread  to  see  the  time  come  for  me 
to  go  to  my  appointment.  I  would  not,  however,  de- 
cline going,  unless  I  could  render  some  plausable  ex- 
cuse. Go  I  must,  and  go  I  did;  but  felt  poorly  pre- 
pared to  preach  with  satisfaction  to  myself  or  benefit 
to  the  people. 

On  these  occasions,  however,  as  well  as  on  all  others, 
I  did  the  best  I  could.  And  in  order  to  make  up 
the  deficiency  of  spiritual  and  mental  defect,  I  would 
exert  all  my  natural  powers.  Thus,  when  I  was 
done  preaching,  I  found  myself  nearly  as  wet  with 
perspiration  as  if  I  had  been  dipped  in  water. 

All  this  time  I  had  no  idea  of  what  was  coming.  I 
was  conscious  that  there  was  a  cause  for  this  barren- 
ness of  soul — this  darkness,  this  lowness  of  spirit.  In 
short,  this  great  dearth  in  my  religious  experience.  I 
was  of  opinion  that  this  state  of  things  was  owing  to 
the  fact  that  I  had  been  so  much  engaged  about  my 
domestic  concerns  that  I  had  not  found  time  to  read 
and  study  as  much  as  I  had  formerly  done,  more  than 
to  anything  else. 

Now,  in  order  to  remedy  this  difficulty,  I  promised 
to  do  better.  That  I  would  study  to  show  myself  ap- 
proved, a  workman  that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed, 
rightly  dividing  the  Word  of  Truth.     I  commenced 


Rev.  Johnson   Olive.  101 

reading  the  Scriptures  more  frequently,  but  found 
great  difficulty  in  keeping  in  mind  anything  that  I 
read.  And  as  to  study,  it  seemed  impossible  for  me 
to  keep  my  mind  on  any  subject  long  enough  to  ac- 
complish any  good.  Then  I  betook  myself  to  secret 
prayer  and  pleading  the  promises.  I  followed  up  this 
for  some  time,  but  could  never  feel  the  spirit  of  prayer 
as  I  had  felt  on  former  occasions.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  I  could  speak  the  words  of  prayer  as  well  as  I 
ever  could,  but  that  there  was  no  life  in  it.  I  would 
often  go  several  times  in  the  course  of  a  day,  and 
when  I  would  rise  from  my  knees  my  prayers  would 
appear  to  me  like  poor  dead  things. 

I  was  all  this  time  going  on  as  if  nothing  had  been 
amiss.  I  followed  up  my  appointments,  and  attended 
to  my  domestic  affairs  without  so  much  as  intimating 
to  any  person  the  state  of  my  mind.  It  is  true  I  had 
hard  work  in  trying  to  preach,  and  it  has  always  ap- 
peared that  my  brethren  must  have  noticed  the  diffi- 
culty under  which  I  was  laboring ;  but  as  before 
stated,  I  always  did  the  lest  I  could,  and  I  suppose 
they  expected  nothing  more.  And  more  than  that,  I 
exerted  all  my  animal  powers  to  make  up  the  de- 
ficiency. 


102  The  Life  and  Times  of 


CHAPTER  IX.    >^ 

Time  passed  on,  and  I  was  growing  worse  daily,  but 
hoping  and  praying  for  the  better,  till  June.  It  was 
in  this  month  that  other  trials  came  on.  Our  oldest 
child,  our  beloved  daughter,  who  had  been  of  feeble 
health  for  several  years,  (but  who  had  seemed  to  be  im- 
proving in  health  for  some  time,)  died,  after  a  short 
attack  of  typhoid  fever.  She  lived  but  little  over  a 
week  after  being  taken. 

Her  mother,  already  weighed  down  with  the  troubles 
and  sorrows  of  an  afflicted  family,  seemed  almost  in- 
consolable under  this  great  bereavement.  I  was  able 
to  bear  it  with  patience  and  fortitude.  I  tried  to  recon- 
cile my  wife  by  telling  her  that  our  loss  was  our  dear 
Sarah's  gain,  for  it  seemed  that  her  health  would  not 
permit  her  to  enjoy  life  here,  but  she  had  gone  to  a 
more  congenial  world ;  for  we  had  no  reason  to  doubt 
her  religion.  She  embraced  religion  when  young,  and 
united  with  the  church  soon  after,  and  had  always 
lived  a  consistent  life.  She  was  baptized  by  her  father, 
and  was  always  an  obedient  and  dutiful  child;  and  if 
it  were  not  for  my  dear  wife  and  children,  I  felt  like  I 
would  rather  leave  the  body  and  go  with  my  dear 
Sarah  to  that  better  world.  My  faith  was  yet  strong, 
and  my  hope  was  firm.  Brother  P.  W.  Dowd  preached 
her  funeral  before  she  was  buried.  He  preached  a 
very  consoling  and  pathetic  discourse,  and  I  felt  recon- 
ciled to  the  providence  of  God  in  taking  her  from  the 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  103 

evil  of  the  woild.  I  could  say,  "  The  Lord  gave,  and 
the  Lord  hath  taken  away;  blessed  be  the  name  of 
the  Lord." 

But  I  did  not  see  the  darkness  that  was  gathering 
over  my  poor  soul.  I  was  now  in  hopes  that  the  gloom 
would  soon  pass  away,  and  that  the  Son  of  Righteous- 
ness would  arise  again  fresh  to  my  soul,  and  that  I 
could  once  more  have  God's  face  to  shine  upon  me. 

I  went  to  some  few  of  my  appointments  after  the 
death  of  my  daughter,  and  tried  to  preach  several 
times,  but  found  the  same  difficulties  in  the  way  as  I 
had  found  before.  Indeed,  I  perceived  that  I  was 
growing  worse.  I  would,  however,  try  to  rally  up  and 
conceal  the  state  of  my  mind  as  much  as  possible.  I 
felt  great  reluctance  in  "letting  an}^  person  know  that 
there  was  any  thing  amiss  with  me.  I  still  entertained 
hopes  that  the  state  of  my  mind  would  soon  change 
for  the  better.  The  cross  of  preaching  became  still 
more  galling,  until  I  dreaded  it  as  bad  as  a  child 
would  dread  to  take  a  whipping.  ,  I  also  followed  up 
secret  prayer  until  I  felt  that  I  was  committing  a  sin 
by  trying  to  force  myself  upon  the  mercy  and  favor  of 
God.  My  efforts  all  proved  unavailing.  The  heavens 
were  as  brass  over  me,  and  the  ear  of  God  seemed 
closed  to  my  importunities.  Under  this  state  of  things 
I  began  to  refrain  from  secret  prayer,  feeling,  as  I  did, 
that  it  would  be  sinning  presumptuously  against  God. 
Sometimes,  however,  I  felt  so  miserable  that  I  must 
needs  do  something,  and  as  I  knew  nothing  better  I 
would  try  it  again,  but  every  time  it  was  the  poor  dead 
thing.     I  also  followed  up  preaching  occasionally,  till 


104  The  Life  and  Times  of 

it  seemed  I  could  preach  no  more,  as  I  appeared  to 
have  no  assistance  but  poor  self. 

About  this  time  I  began  to  fear  that  the  conse- 
quences would  be  serious  and  awful.  Sometimes  I 
would  think  that  the  cause  which  produced  this  effect 
might  be  physical,  at  other  times  I  would  think  it  was 
a  judgment  sent  on  me  for  some  sin-which  I  had  com- 
mitted, but  as  I  could  fix  on  no  particular  sin  of  a 
heinous  nature,  or  v/ilful  or  outbreaking  sin  that  would 
seem  to  bring  down  the  frowning  blast  of  Jehovah,  I 
was  disposed  to  look  at  natural  causes  first.  I  there- 
fore sought  a  private  interview  with  a  physician,  told 
him  some  of  my  feelings,  and  requested  him  to  ex- 
amine me  thoroughly,  to  see  if  he  could  detect  any 
disease  in  my  system  which  would  be  likely  to  lead  to  or 
bring  on  the  present  state  of  things.  He  examined  me, 
and  said  he  could  discover  no  symptoms  of  disease  in 
my  system.  I  then  told  him  if  it  was  not  in  my  sys- 
tem it  was  in  my  mind,  and  asked  him  if  he  could  do 
any  thing  to  release  me.  His  answer  was:  "If  it  be 
your  mind,  you  ought  to  be  a  better  judge  of  that  than 
I  am."  And  then  commenced  jesting  me,  and  said  he 
was  somewhat  surprised  to  see  me  with  the  blues,  and 
gave  me  some  directions  how  to  break  them.  I  took 
it  all  in  good  part,  and  would  have  rejoiced  if  I  could 
have  believed  it  to  be  so.  But  I  knew  enough  about 
that  disease  to  convince  me  that  I  was  laboring  under 
something  of  a  more  serious  nature,  because  I  had 
now  began  to  doubt  the  reality  of  my  religion  ;  and 
finding  that  the  doctor  had  pronounced  me  free  from 
bodily  disease,  I  was  more  thoroughly  convinced  that 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  105 

the  cause  was  to.be  sought  and  found,  if  found  at  all, 
in  something  connected  with  ray  religion. 

Previous  to  the  interview  which  I  had  with  the 
doctor,  I  was  in  great  doubts  and  fears  about  my  spir- 
itual condition.  Even  before  I  quit  preaching  I  had 
some  misgivings  in  my  mind  on  the  genuineness  of 
my  religion.  I  felt  that  God  had  withdrawn  from  me 
His  supporting  grace;  and  the  light  of  His  counte- 
nance was  hid  from  me. 

I  had  an  appointment  to  preach  a  funeral  at  Holly 
Springs— I  think  it  was  in  the  month  of  August.  I 
tried  every  way  I  could  to  get  some  preacher  to  fill  my 
appointment  there.  I  would  tell  them  that  I  did  not 
feel  that  I  could  preach,  and  that  I  felt  that  it  would 
be  wrong  for  me  to  make  the  attempt.  One  minister 
promised  to  go  if  I  would  also  attend,  and  if  I  did  not 
feel  better  when  I  got  there  he  would  preach,  that  is,  if 
I  would  not.  The  day  came,  and  I  went.  When  I 
got  there  I  found  a  very  respectable  congregation,  but 
on  enquiry,  the  man  who  made  the  promise  was  not 
there.  I  had  an  interview  with  two  of  the  Deacons 
of  the  church,  and  told  them  I  was  in  no  condition  to 
preach,  and  related  to  them  some  of  my  sensations  and 
feelings.  In  order  to  console  me  one  of  them  replied 
that  "  All  things  should  work  together  for  good  to  them 
that  love  the  Lord."  I  replied  that  I  feared  that  I  was 
not  entitled  to  that  promise,  as  it  seemed  that  I  was 
destitute  of  all  spiritual  light  and  comfort.  But  as 
the  appointment  had  been  made  for  me  to  preach,  and 
as  the  people  had  met,  and  the  friends  and  relatives  of 
the  deceased  insisted  I  must  preach  or  there  would 


106  The  Life  and  Times  of 

be  a  disappointment,  I  therefore  consented  to  try. 
My  feelings  were  awful.  I  got  up  and  made  some 
apologies,  which  I  was  not  in  the  habit  of  doing,  then 
commenced  the  services  in  the  usual  form.  My  text 
was  this:  "All  flesh  is  as  grass,  and  all  the  glory  of 
man  as  the  flower  of  grass;  the  grass  withereth  and 
the  flower  thereof  falleth  away."  "So  is  all  the  glory 
of  man,"  said  I.  And  I  felt  that  I  had  selected  a  suit- 
able text  for  my  own  funeral.  I  did  the  best  I  could 
under  the  circumstances,  but  felt  that  it  was  but  a 
poor  preach.  Others  spoke  of  it  afterwards  as  being  a 
good  sermon,  and  urged  that  as  one  reason  why  I 
should  go  on  in  preaching  the  Gospel. 

This  was  my  last  sermon  for  a  period  of  five  years  ; 
and  I  then  thought  it  would  be  my  last  in  this  world. 
On  reflection,  T  felt  that  I  had  done  wrong  in  trying 
to  preach  so  long  any  way,  but  more  particularly  so 
in  making  the  attempt  that  time,  for  it  seemed,  on  that 
occasion,!  had  sinned  presumptuously. 

I  now  determined  I  would  preach  no  more  unless  I 
should  find  relief  from  my  troubles.  By  this  time  my 
case  became  the  topic  of  conversation  in  my  neigh- 
borhood and  in  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance;  all 
seemed  to  be  concerned  about  me,  but  none  knew  how 
far  I  was  gone,  nor  how  fast  I  was  sinking.  Even  to 
mv  own  mind  it  w:\3  not  revealed.  Numbers  came  to 
see  me — relatives,  friends  and  brethren  all  united  to 
do  all  that  human  power  could  do  to  deliver  me  from 
that  unhappy  state.  Meanwhile  I  was  anxiously  en- 
quiring and  searching  to  find  the  cause  which  had 
produced  the  efi'ect.     I  examined  and  re-examined  my 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  107 

whole  christian  experience,  and  although  I  had  done 
many  things  which  I  ought  not  to  have  done,  and  left 
undone  many  that  I  ought  to  have  done,  yet,  upon  the 
whole,  I  thought  my  experienc  was  about  as  good  as 
the  experience  of  many  others.  In  short,  I  thought 
my  christian  edifice  looked  as  well  as  my  neighbors' 
houses;  and  although  there  were  some  pieces  of  tim- 
ber put  in  that  1  wished  had  been  left  out,  and  some 
that  would  have  fitted  better  could  they  have  been  put 
in  their  ]  laces,  yet  I  was  not  inclined  to  pull  the  house 
down,  but  felt  that  it  might  answer  the  purpose  for 
which  it  Was  intended. 

My  daily  business  was  to  search  for  the  cause  which 
had  brought  me  to  my  unhappy  condition.  I  retro- 
spected  all  my  past  history,  more  especially  the  five 
years  during  which  I  had  been  the  subject  of  convic- 
tion for  sin,  the  manner  and  way,  the  time  and  place 
in  which  and  where  I  obtained  deliverance. 

And  then  follows  on  five  years  more  while  I  was  a 
member  of  the  church  but  not  exercising  in  the  way 
of  preaching  ;  five  years  more  while  I  was  preaching 
as  a  licensed  minister;  and  then  the  twelve  years 
during  which  time  I  had  been  preaching  as  an  or- 
dained minister,  and  this  would  bring  me  through. 
I  traveled  this  road  backwards  and  forwards  many 
times  looking  for  that  cause  which  had  produced  such 
a  sad  state  of  feeling  in  my  mind.  I  was  daily  grow- 
ing worse,  and  my  prospects  of  getting  out  became 
more  and  more  gloomy.  I  was  yet  clinging  to  my 
hope,  and  struggling  to  retain  my  faith  in  God  ;  but 
I  felt  as  sensible  that  an  awful  crisis  in  this  affair  was 


108  The  Life  and  Times  of 

approaching  as  I  did  of  any  future  event.  It  did  seem 
to  me  that  I  could  feel  the  darkness  tliat  was  brewing 
upon  me;  and  although  I  could  not  tell  what  the  re- 
sult would  be,  I  was  conscious  it  would  be  something 
awful.  Sometimes  I  would  think  i)erhaps  I  am  going 
deranged,  and  if  so,  I  would  rather  die  than  live. 
While  I  was  meditating  on  this  subject  I  came  to  the 
conclusion  -in  my  own  mind  that  if  I  could  die  it 
would  be  best  for  all— belter  for^me,  for  my  family,  for 
the  churches  and  friends,  an.d  the  people  generally  ; 
for  I  had  no  idea  that  I  should  ever  be  of  any  more 
use  to  any  one.  I  would  consider  and  reconsider  those 
dreadful  forebodings  which  were  continually  crowd- 
ing on  my  mind.  I  dreaded  the  awful  consequences 
which  I  felt  must  result  from  what  was  coming,  though 
I  knew  not  what  it  was;  but  let  it  be  what  it  might, 
I  would  rather  die  and  risk  the  consequences* of  the 
future  than  to  abide  the  approaching  crisis. 

All  this  time  my  family,  my  relatives  and  friends 
were  attributing  my  case  to  causes  which  I  felt  had 
but  little,  if  any,  bearing.  They  were  of  opinion  that 
my  mind  had  been  overburdened  by  affliction  in  my 
family — being  frustrated  in  my  purposes  of  moving, 
and  the  death  of  a  beloved  daughter — and  the  general 
impression  was  that  I  was  only  laboring  under  men- 
tal depression.  1  was  told  by  my  best  friends  to  quit 
studying,  and  go  on  in  the  discharge  of  my  duties, 
and  it  would  soon  wear  off,  for  it  was  nothing  but  the 
hippo,  or  blues.  I  did  not  doubt  their  sincerity,  or 
the  purity  of 'their  motives,  but  I  was  satisfied  ihey 
knew  but  little  of  what  a  warfare  there  was  going  on 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  109 

in  my  mind.  I  had  not  told  the  twentieth  part.  I 
would  continue  to  believe  that  it  would  be  better  for 
all  for  me  to  die  than  to  live. 

About  this  time  I  began  to  try  to  pray  that  I  might 
die  suddenly,  as  I  saw  no  prospect  of  ever  being  of 
any  more  benefit  to  my  family,  or  to  any  one  else;  I 
thought  I  would  rather  die  than  be  a  nuisance.  I  did 
not  feel  very  well  satisfied  about  the  future  conse- 
quences, but  I  was  willing  to  risk  that,  as  I  felt  I 
should  never  get  any  better. 

I  have  given  some  of  my  thoughts  about  dreams  in 
a  former  chapter.  I  will  here  state  that  I  am  of  the 
same  opinion  now  as^then  ;  yet  as  the  Bible  authorizes 
him  who  has  a  dream  to  tell  a  dream,  I  will  here  re- 
late one  of  the  most  forcible  and  affecting  dreams  that 
ever  passed  through  my  mind  :  I  had  been  thinking 
of  my  unhappy  condition  for  some  time,  and  searching 
for  the  cause,  but  could  not  find  it,  till  I  was  anxious 
to  die,  and  get  out  of  the  world,  and  no  longer  be  a 
trouble  to  my  family  and  friends.  I  finally  concluded, 
if  I  could  lie  down  at  night  and  die  without  a  struggle, 
o-r  go  to  sleep  and  wake  up  in  eternity,  it  would  be  the 
most  welcome  death  that  I  could  think  of.  I  felt  that 
I  desired  it;  I  wished  for  it,  and  tried  to  pray  that  it 
might  be  so.  Night  came  on  ;  I  lay  down  very  early; 
my  family  were  sitting  up  by  the  fireside;  I  tried  to 
resign  myself  to  death  ;  hoped  it  would  come;  wished 
for  it,  and  desired  it ;  and  with  these  thoughts  revolv- 
ing in  my  mind  I  went  to  sleep.  I  had  not  been 
doziiig  long  before  death  came  in  the  shape  and  form 
of  a  skeleton  of  a  giant.     He  was  tall  and  strong,  with 


110  The  Life  and  Times  of 

no  flesh  on  his  bones.  I  knew  his  name  was  death. 
He  came  up  to  where  I  was  lying  and  asked  me  if  I 
was  ready  to  go.  I  replied  ''yes,"  as  I  felt  it  would 
be  better  for  me  and  all  others.  He  said  he  had  come 
for  me  if  I  was  ready  to  go.  I  told  him  I  was;  and 
he  laid  his  strong,  bony  hand  gently  upon  my  throat 
and  asked  me  again  if  I  was  ready  to  go.  I  again 
replied  that  I  was,  when  he  pressed  me  on  the  throat 
and  asked  the  question  again  :  "  Are  you  now  ready 
to  go?"  I  assented,  and  he  pressed  me  still  harder  and 
asked  the  same  question,  and  I  gave  a  like  answer, 
when  he  continued  pressing  harder  and  asking,  "Are 
you  now  ready  to  go?"  Receiving  the  same  answer 
from  me  as  before  for  several  times,  my  breath  became 
doubly  sweet,  as  it  was  difficult  for  me  to  breathe ;  yet 
I  continued  to  give  in,  by  answering  that  I  was  ready 
to  go,  till  I  drew  my  last  breath,  and  knew  it  to  be  my 
last,  from  the  fact  that  his  hand  gripped  me  so  hard 
that  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  breathe  any 
more.  That  was  the  sweetest  breath  I  ever  drew,  and 
I  wished  that  I  could  draw  one  more ;  but  his  hand 
was  pressing  too  hard,  and  I  began  to  struggle,  and  in 
my  struggling  I  raised  my  hand  to  break  his  grip,  so 
that  I  might  breathe  once  more,  as  breath  was  so  very 
sweet.  In  my  struggle  I  awoke,  and  behold  !  it  was  a 
dream. 

My  wife,  and  some  of  my  children  were  still  sitting 
up  by  the  fireside.  I  knew  by  that  I  had  not  been 
sleeping  very  long.  I  lay  where  I  was,  meditating 
upon  what  had  just  passed  through  my  mind  in  a 
dream.     I  wished  that  I  had  died,  but  it  was  not  so. 


Rkv.  Johnson  Olive.  HI 

I  thought  if  I  had  not  raised  my  hand  to  break  his 
grip  I  should  have  died,  and  wished  that  I  had  not 
done  it.  It  seemed  that  raising  my  hand  to  push  his 
off  was  an  evidence  that  I  was  not  willing  to  die,  after 
all  my  wishes,  desires  and  prayers.  I  concluded  if  it 
were  to  do  over  again  I  would  not  raise  my  hand, 
notwithstanding  breath  was  so  sweet. 

When  morning  came  I  was  ten  fold  more  miserable 
than  I  had   been   before.     I  could   not  refrain   from 
speaking  of  my  forlorn  condition.     I  told  my  wife  that 
I  had  came  near  dying  last  night,  and  wished  that  I 
had.     She  told  me  it  was   nothing  but  a  nightmare ; 
that  she  had  had   many  of  them.     I  said  but  litt'e 
more  then,  but  walked  out  to  see  how  things  appeared. 
I  found  myself  to  be  the  deadest  man  to  be  living  that 
I  had  ever  seen.     I  was  dead   to  faith,  hope,  and  re- 
ligion.    I  felt  that  I  was  given  up  of  God,  and  in  the 
hands  of  the  devil,  to  be  tormented  by  him  while  I 
lived,  and  punished  by   him  after  death.     The  awful 
crisis  was   now   at  hand.     Hopeless  despair  had  now 
laid  fast  hold  on  me.     I  was  restless,  and   dissatisfied 
anywhere   and  everywhere.     I  was  constantly  going 
from  place  to  place  about  the  plantation,  preferring  to 
be  alone  ;  my  mind  was  like  the  troubled  sea  that  can- 
not rest.     I  did  not  believe  that  I  could  live  under  the 
load   of  sin  and   guilt  which   was   now  pressing  me 
down.    I  had  now  found  out  the  cause  of  all  my  misery. 
I  had    caught    the  shadow  and  missed  the  substance; 
I  had  built  my  hoiise  on  the  sand,  instead  of  building 
on  the  rock,     T  now  saw  my  folly ;  but  it  was  too  late 


112  The  Life  and  Times  of 

to  become  wise.  I  had  suffered  myself  to  be  imposed 
upon  by  the  devil,  and  I  was  now  left  to  take  care  of 
myself,  if  I  could. 

Id  looking  back  to  ray  first  religious  experience  I 
saw  things  in  quite  a  different  light  from  what  I  had 
ever  seen  them  before.  The  devil  had  transformed 
himself  into  an  angel  of  light,  and  made  me  believe 
him  to  be  God  ;  I  had  yielded  to  his  temptations,  and 
false  teachings,  till  I  ascribed  to  him  all  that  I  had 
ever  experienced  ;  and  now  having  accomplished  his 
design  and  purposes  with  me,  he  had  taken  off*  the 
mask  to  let  me  see  what  a  fool  he  had  made  of  me. 
My  consternation,  grief  and  sorrow,  all  rushing  upon 
me,  made  me  feel  that  I  had  acted  the  part  of  Judas 
Iscariot.  I  felt  that  I  had  denied  the  Lord  of  Glory-  • 
crucified  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  put  Him  to  open 
shame;  and  hence,  there  remained  no  more  sacrifice 
for  sin.  My  doom  was  now  sea.ed ;  my  destiny  was 
fixed;  an  outcast  from  God,  a  vagabond  and  a  fugi- 
tive in  the  world.  Forlorn  and  hopeless  I  must  wan- 
der in  search  of  rest,  but  find  none.  The  worm  that 
never  dies  was  gnawing  upon  my  conscience,  and  the 
fire  of  hell  seemed  to  be  burning  in  my  bosom.  This 
weight  and  load  of  trouble  was  daily  increasing,  and  it 
seemed  impossible  for  me  to  bear  up  under  it  much 
longer.  I  had  said  but  little  to  any  person  about  it, 
except  to  my  wife,  and  she  would  make  light  of  my 
strange  imaginations,  as  she  termed  them.  I  at  last 
conceived  the  horrid  idea  of  ending  my  miserable  life 
on  earth  by  an  act  of  violence.  I  shuddered  at  the  first 
thought  of  taking   this   dreadful   step.     To   commit 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  113 

suicide    had    always  appeared  foreign   to  my  mind  ; 
but  now  the  time  had  come  when  I  must  do  something, 
and  under  the  circumstances  which  I  was  now  placed 
I  could  conceive  of  nothing  better.     I  would  reason 
thus  :  It  will  be  better  for  me,  for  the  longer  I  live  the 
worse  I  shall  get,  and   the  sooner  I  find   my   destiny 
the  better  it  will  be  for  me.     In  regard  to  my  wife  and 
children,  it  would  be  better  for  them,  as  my  past  con- 
duct would  brand  them  forever  as  the   wife  and  chil- 
dren of  the  traitor.     In  regard   to   my  relatives  and 
friends,  it  would  save  them   from   the  stigma  of  ever 
being  connected   with  so   vile  a  man   as  I  conceived 
myself  to  be;  and  as  to  the  church,  and  the  cause  of 
religion  generally,  it  would  be  better  for  me  to  die  a 
suicide  than  to  divulge  these  dreadful  truths,  which 
would  be  handled  by  the  enemies  of  religion   against 
the  righteous.     Upon  mature  reflection  and  consider- 
ation I  decided   upon   that  course,  believing  it  to  be 
the  best  thing  I  could  do,  under  all  the  circumstances 
taken  together.     In  this  way  I    would  cut  the  story 
short.     I  would  be  found  dead  ;  the  verdict  would  be, 
"  He  committed  suicide ;   the  cause  unknown,  but  sup- 
posed to  be  insanity."     Thus  I   supposed  the  whole 
matter  would  soon  pass  away  ;  my  family,  my  friends 
and  brethren  would  all  pass  through  it  without  being 
materially  injured  thereby.     It  is  true  I  dreaded  the 
horrid  step,  but  as  it  was  the  best  thing  I  could  do  un- 
der the   circumstances,  I  felt  disposed    to  do  it.      I 
formed  my  plan,  chose  my  weapon,  fixed  the  time  and 
place,  and  began   to   make  arrangements   to  carry  it 
into  execution.     I  was  very  careful  and  watchful  in 


il4  The  Life  and  Times  of 

all  my  movements,  for  fear  of  being  detected.  I  knew 
if  my  family  or  friends  even  suspected  such  a  thing 
they  would  prevent  it  if  they  could.  My  time  to  do 
this  was  at  the  dead  hour  of  night;  the  place  some 
three  quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  house;  the  weapon 
to  be  used  was  a  sharp  knife,  which  I  would  use  by 
making  one  desperate  rip  across  my  throat.  I  was 
conscious  that  nature  would  revolt,  but  I  was  equally 
conscious  that  I  could,  by  one  prodigious  effort,  ex- 
tinguish life;  and  as  I  had  decided  this  thing  cooly 
and  calmly,  I  was  not  to  be  turned  from  it  by  common 
difficulties.  The  night  came  on  which  I  was  to  com- 
mit this  deed.  My  purpose  was  to  lie  down  early, 
taking  off  my  outer  garments,  and  whenever  my 
family  lay  down,  and  were  in  sound  sleep,  I  would 
get  up  and  gently  put  on  my  clothes,  take  my  shoes 
in  my  hand,  and  walk  out  softly  in  my  socks,  to  pre- 
vent any  noise  that  would  be  likely--to  wake  any  of 
my  family.  At  a  late  hour  of  the  night  I  found  all 
were  still,  and  appeared  to  be  sleeping.  I  rose  up  as 
easy  as  possible,  and  after  putting  on  my  vest,  coat  and 
hat,  I  took  my  shoes  in  my  hand  and  went  out  as 
slyly  as  possible.  When  I  got  out  I  discovered  it  was 
raining.  I  did  not  mind  that  at  all.  I  put  my  shoes 
on  my  feet,  and  as  I  rose  up  to  leave  the  door  this 
impression  was  made  on  my  mind :  This  is  the  last 
time  I  shall  ever  go  out  at  this  door. 

Now,  it  was  as  dark  as  well  could  be;  I  could 
scarcely  discern  my  hand  ;  I  went  to  the  gate  to  go 
out  of  the  yard  ;  opened  it  very  softly,  with  my  mind 
drawn    out  in  full   force  upon   the   dreadful  subject 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  115 

which  lay  before  me.  No  doubt  imagination  was  play- 
ing, for  as  I  stepped  out  of  the  yard  into  the  lane  I 
imagined  that  I  saw  the  devil.  The  sight  did  not 
terrify  me  in  the  least,  for  I  expected  to  be  with  him 
very  soon  any  way.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe 
his  appearance  on  this  occasion  further  than  to  say 
he  appeared  to  be  very  subtle,  and  a  little  above  the 
earth,  and  in  a  dancing  motion.  Unconscious  to  my- 
self, I  spoke  above  a  whisper,  and  said:  "  Why  don't 
you  come  along  and  take  me?"  He  replied,  not  by 
words,  but  by  a  strong  impression  upon  my  mind:  "  I 
cannot  take  you  while  you  are  in  the  body,  but  if  you 
will  get  out  of  the  body  I  will  take  you."  To  which 
I  replied  :  "  I  will  fix  that  matter  very  soon,"  and 
started  to  my  place. 

After  going  about  half  way,  I  came  to  a  road,  and 
as  I  stepped  into  the  road  I  heard  a  strange  noise — or 
at  least  thought  I  did.  I  stopped  and  paused  to 
listen  ;  the  noise  appeared  to  be  at  my  house,  and 
seemed  to  be  the  cries  of  my  children,  and  the  lamen- 
tation of  my  wife.  Those  of  you  who  have  attended 
a  revival  meeting,  and  left  while  the  noise  was  going 
on,  and  getting  a  short  distance  from  the  meeting  and 
stopped  to  listen,  can  form  some  idea  how  the  noise 
which  I  heard  appeared  to  me.  I  felt  sure  that  my 
wife  had  waked  up  and  looked  for  me,  and  I  was  gone. 
I  was  also  conscious  that  she  suspected  that  I  was  gone 
for  the  very  purpose  for  which  I  had  gone,  and  as 
such  she  had  aroused*  the'  children,  and  would  soon 
arouse  the  neighbors,  when  a  general  search  would  be 
made  for  me.     I  soon  thought  that  what  I  was  going 


116  The  Life  and  Times  of 

to  do  must  be  done  quickly,  for  they  might  find  me 
before  I  bad  accomplished  the  deed.  I  started  again 
in  a  hurry,  but  only  went  some  eighty  or  a  hundred 
yards  when  this  thought  rushed  into  my  mind  with 
great  force:  Now,  if  you  attempt  to  commit  that  hor- 
rid deed  w^ith  this  noise  ringing  in  your  ears,  you  will 
make  a  failure,  for  you  will  only  inflict  a  wound,  and 
not  accomplish  your  design,  and  then  you  will  never 
have  another  opportunity.  Your  friends  will  confine 
you,  and  deprive  you  of  your  weapons.  You  had  bet- 
ter hasten  back  to  your  family,  and  say  to  them  that 
you  had  occasion  to  go  out,  and  got  wet  in  a  shower 
of  rain,  and  chide  them  for  their  noise  and  confusion. 
To-morrow,  or  at  some  more  favorable  time,  you  will 
have  a  better  opportunity.  I  turned  back,  w^alked 
some  and  ran  some,  I  soon  came  to  the  house,  but 
was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  all  asleep,  and  every- 
thing as  still  as  when  I  left.  I  was  dripping  wet  w^ith 
the  rain,  and  in  a  poor  fix.  I  took  off  my  coat  and 
hat  and  built  up  a  fire,  intending  to  dry  myself. 
While  I  was  doing  so  I  thought  to  myself:  What 
could  that  noise  have  been  which  I  heard  so  dis- 
tinctly ?  The  answer  to  this  inquiry  was:  It  must 
have  been  the  geese,  though  I  had  never  heard  geese 
make  that  strange  noise  before. 

It  appears  to  me  now  that  I  heard  that  noise,  though 
it  might  have  been  imagination.  I  was  soon  inclined 
to  try  again,  and  was  again  defeated.  I  stole  off  from 
my  wife,  but  was  soon  pursued  by  her  brother,  who  I 
supposed  was  not  in  five  miles  of  me.  I  could  never 
make  the  attempt;  for  before  I  could  get  to  the  place 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  117 

I  would  be  intercepted  ;  something  would  frustrate  all 
my  designs.  My  nerves  seemed  to  weaken  in  every 
failure  until  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  although 
God  had  given  me  up  to  the  devil,  yet  He  would  not 
suffer  me  to  sneak  out  of  the  world  in  that  way.  It 
was  a  dreadful  thought,  yet  I  preferred  taking  my  own 
life  rather  than  be  made  a  public  example. 

I  will  here  state  a  little  circumstance,  by  which  I 
was  detected  in  this  dreadful  affair: 

There  was  a  lady,  who  had  formerly  lived  in  our 
house,  and  who  had  often  visited  us  after  she  was  mar- 
ried. She  had  heard  that  I  was  in  low  spirits,  and 
greatly  troubled  about  something.  She  came  to  see 
me,  in  order  to  break  my  study,  as  she  said.  She  was 
a  fine  woman,  and  very  intimate  with  our  family. 
She  proposed  to  have  a  close  chat  with  me,  and  wished 
me  to  tell  her  how  I  felt,  as  she  believed  that  she  had 
been  in  the  same  situation  that  I  was  in  then.  I  con- 
sented to  talk  with  her,  and  would  tell  her  little  by 
little  of  my  feelings,  taking  care  to  keep  back  the 
main  drift  of  my  awful  feelings  ;  but  she  kept  probing 
me  till  she  got  more  than  I  intended  she  should  in 
the  outset.  It  mattered  not  what  I  told  her,  she  would 
say, ''  I  have  been  so  myself,  and  even  worse,  and  I 
got  out  of  it,  and  I  can  tell  you  how  to  get  out,"  At 
last,  being  wearied  with  her  inquisitiveness,  I  said  : 
"  You  have  never  gone  as  far  as  I  have,  for  I  have 
been  tempted  to  do  so,"  (drawing  my  hand  across  my 
throat.)  She  laughed  at  me,  and  said  I  need  not  be 
alarmed  at  that,  for  that  was  nothing  more  than  com- 
mon with  persons  who  had   the  blues ;  that  she  had 


118  The  Life  and  Times  of 

gone  further  than  I  had;  she  had  got  the  rope,  and 
started  off  to  hang  herself,  and  that  she  was  now  well 
of  it,  and  that  I  would  soon  be  out  of  it;,  just  take  her 
advice,  and  all  would  be  well. 

I  believed  as  much  of  what  she  had  said  as  I  pleased 
and  no  more.  But  she  had  accomplished  her  object 
in  talking  with  me.  She  soon  made  known  all  that 
she  had  found  out.  I  was  robbed  of  my  knife  and  I 
have  never  seen  it  since. 

But  I  was  busy  in  seeking  another  opportunity  and 
other  means  to  accomplish  the  awful  deed.  I  sought 
for  my  razors,  but  they  were  gone;  and  all  other 
weapons  that  v/ould  be  likely  to  be  sought  for  by  me 
were  out  of  place.  I  was  not  disposed  to  enquire  for 
anything  for  fear  of  detection. 

I  stole  off  from  my  wife  one  day,  intending  to  com- 
mit the  deed  in  some  way,  but  had  gone  but  a  short 
distance  before  I  heard  some  one  coming  behind  me. 
I  looked,  and  saw  it  was  my  wife's  brother,  looking  for 
me;  I  turned  my  course  and  met  him,  put  on  the  best 
appearance  I  could,  and  proposed  to  go  to  the  house 
with  him,  hoping  he  would  soon  go  home,  and  then  I 
would  have  an  opportunity  of  carrying  out  my  design. 
He  did  not  leave  that  day,  but  stayed  till  next  morn- 
ing, and  gave  me  some  good  counsel  on  leaving,  but 
never  intimated  to  rae  that  he  had  any  fears. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  119 


CHAPTER  X. 


About  this  time  I  was  getting  so  restless  that  my 
family  became  uneasy,  so  much  so  that  they  sent  for 
my  brother,  Calvin  Olive,  and  my  brother-in-law,  F. 
W.  Rogers,  and  wife,  to  come  to  see  me,  in  order,  as  I 
suppose,  to  determine  what  course  should  be  taken 
with  me.  I  was  not  pleased  with  this  step,  taken  by 
my  family  without  my  consent  or  knowledge.  But,  as 
it  was  done,  I  made  the  best  of  it  I  could.  They  all 
came ;  I  tried  to  behave  myself  as  well  as  I  could,  but 
found  it  difficult  on  my  part  to  remain  long  in  their 
presence.  I  had  discovered  for  several  days  that  my 
load  of  trouble  was  growing  upon  me,  and  it  n'  w 
seemed  to  fill  me  so  fall  that  if  I  did  not  let  it  out  by 
way  of  telling  it,  I  should  burst.  I  had  kept  the  dread- 
ful thing  wrapped  up  and  concealed  until  it  was  bound 
to  come  out,  unless  I  could  prevent  it  by  death,  which 
I  thought  I  would  much  prefer. 

To  tell  all  the  meanness  which  I  conceived  to  be  in 
me,  and  the  sinful  part  which  I  had  acted,  was  more 
than  I  felt  willing  to  do. 

They  tarried  all  night  with  me,  and  next  morning 
•I  found  myself  worse  than  ever.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
I  was  full  up  to  my  neck.  Mental  pain  was  great. 
I  could  not  be  still  in  any  position.  My  brother  and 
brother  in-law  would  stay  with  me;  I  found  no  chance 
to  get  away  from  them.  They  took  seats  in  the  piazza, 
and  I  employed  myself  for  a  short  time  in  walking  to 
and  fro  across  the  floor.     My  mental  agony  and  pain 


120  The  Life  and  Times  of 

was  so  great  that  I  became  nervous ;  I  was  trembling  in 
my  knees,  and  as  I  was  pacing  the  floor  this  passage 
of  Scripture  rushed  into  my  mind  :  "  Thou  art  weighed 
in  the  balances,  and  art  found  waniing."  Yes,  thought 
I,  you  are  like  Belshazzar  ;  you  see  your  doom,  and 
your  knees  smite  together.  This  came  with  such  force 
that  I  verily  believed  I  should  soon  be  in  hell. 

Breakfast  being  ready,  we  were  invited  to  the  table 
to  eat.  I  declined  going,  for  I  felt  that  I  was  already 
too  full,  and  did  not  believe  that  I  could  eat  under 
such  a  load  of  mental  suffering.  They  insisted  on  my 
going,  and  I  objected,  till  they  told  me  in  plain  terms 
if  I  would  not  go  neither  would  they ;  so,  in  order  to 
get  them  to  go,  I  went.  I  tried  to  eat  a  little,  and  I 
think  I  drank  one  cup  of  cofiPee,  and  sat  till  they  ate 
what  thev  would,  which  was  not  much. 

The  time  for  me  to  burst  was  near  at  hand.  I  was 
conscious  that  the  whole  thing  had  to  come  out,  and 
that  soon,  as  I  could  hold  it  no  longer.  I  felt  that  I 
had  smothered  it  in  my  bosom  so  long  that  when  I 
did  give  it  vent  there  would  be  an  explosion,  and  as  I 
did  not  wish  to  excite  my  wife  and  cliildren,  I  wished 
to  get  some  distance  from  the  house,  so  that  they  might 
not  hear  me,  and  thus  become  alarmed  and  cry.  So, 
as  I  rose  from  the  breakfast  table,  I  spoke  to  my 
brother  and  brother-in-law,  and  asked  them  to  take  a 
walk  with  me,  to  which  they  assented.  I  led  the  way, 
and  they  followed ;  but  I  was  in  a  hurry  and  they 
were  not.  I  outwalked  them.  I  would  look  back  in 
a  manner  to  urge  them  on,  but  it  seemed  to  do  no 
good,  as  they  were  determined  to  have  their  own  time. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  121 

They  little  knew  what  was  coming,  and  coming  so 
soon. 

After  getting  some  one  hundred  yards  from  the 
house  (not  one  fourth  the  distance  I  wished  to  go,)  and 
I  some  twenty  paces  before  them,  I  knew  I  could  hold 
in  no  longer,  for  I  felt  my  mental  resistance  give  way. 
I  turned  back  to  meet  them,  and  addressed  myself  to 
my  brother-in-law  in  substance  as  follows  :  "  Squire,  I 
am  the  meanest  man  that  ever  made  a  track  on  God's 
earth  ;  I  have  kept  the  thing  concealed  until  I  can 
keep  it  no  longer.  Have  you  not  seen  what  a  desperate 
situation  I  have  been  in  all  the  morning?  And  now, 
Squire,  it  is  in  me,  and  it  has  to  come  out."  He  tried 
to  chide  me,  and  denied  the  truth  of  what  I  had  said. 
I  replied  :  "Squire,  you  need  not  tell  me  this  or  that, 
I  know  my  doom.  I  have  betrayed  my  Lord  and 
Master;  I  have  murdered  my  wife  and  children;  I  am 
worse  than  Judas;  I  am  worse  than  Cain  !" 

They  interrupted  me  again  by  saying  it  was  not  so, 
and  in  order  to  prove  it  not  so  they  proposed  to  go 
with  me  to  the  house  and  show  me  that  my  wife  and 
children  were  all  living,  and  that  I  had  said  that  I 
had  murdered  them.  "  Ah  !  "  said  I, ''  Squire,  I  have 
not  committed  the  overt  act;  I  know  that  as  well  as 
you  do  ;  but  I  am  just  as  guiity  in  the  sight  of  God  as 
I  should  be  if  I  had  cut  their  throats,  for  ray  conduct 
has  murdered  them." 

*'  What  have  you  done?"  said  the  Squire. 

"  I  have  crucified  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  put 
Him  to  an  open  shame;  I  am  worse  than  Judas,  for 
while  it  is  true  that  Judas  betrayed  his  Lord,  he  bad 
6 


122  The  Life  and  Times  of 

no  wife  and  children  to  ruin,  that  1  know  of,  by  his 
dreadful  sin.  But  I  have;  I  am  worse  than  Cain  who 
killed  his  brother ;  but  there  were  not  so  many  to  be 
affected  by  his  brutal  act  as  there  are  in  my  case." 

He  asked  me  if  I  did  really  believe  that  I  was  worse 
than  Judas.  I  replied  that  I  did,  and  gave  some  addi- 
tional reasons  for  my  thinking  so.  I  told  him  that  I 
hated  it  as  bad  as  he  or  any  other  person  could  hate 
it,  but  it  was  a  dreadful  reality,  and  that  I  must  abide 
the  awful  consequences,  I  told  him  that  the  mark  of 
Cain  was  stamped  upon  me,  and  that  I  was  compelled 
to  wear  it  wherever  I  went. 

He  asked  me  where  that  mark  was.  I  told  him  to 
look  in  my  countenance  and  he  would  see  it,  for  that 
my  countenance  had  fallen;  that  I  could  not  look  a 
person  straight  in  the  face  ;  and  that  I  felt  meaner  than 
a  sheep-killing  dog. 

He  and  my  brother  both  concluded  that  I  was  de- 
ranged, and  asked  me  if  I  thought  it  would  do  to  let 
me  go  at  large.  I  told  them  that  I  was  not  deranged, 
but  that  I  had  more  sense  then  than  I  had  ever  had 
before. 

They  of  course  concluded  that  I  was  making  a  very 
bad  use  of  it,  if  it  be  as  I  had  contended.  I  had  made 
some  noise  in  speaking,  for  I  spoke  very  loud  and 
pointed.  I  was  heard  by  my  wife's  sister,  who  came 
running  to  me  with  extended  arms  of  love  and  affec- 
tion. When  she  got  to  me  she  laid  her  arms  on  my 
shoulders,  her  eyes  streaming  in  tears,  and  in  word 
of  kindness  and  in  accents  of  love,  she  calmed  my 
turbulent  spirit  for  a  while.     She  overcome  evil  with 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  123 

good.  I  soon  felt  that  I  had  now  committed  myself 
openly  to  the  world.  I  had  spoken  nothing  but  what 
was  true,  but  as  everybody  would  now  believe  just  as 
I  did,  I  should  soon  be  destitute  of  friends,  and  that 
even  my  own  kindred  and  family  would  denounce  me 
as  an  ungrateful  and  wdcked  wretch,  I  felt  that  I  de- 
served no  mercy  from  God,  no  pity  from  kindred  or 
family,  or  sympathy  from  friends.  I  wished  I  had 
kept  it  concealed  a  little  longer ;  but  I  had  kept  it  as 
long  as  I  could. 

My  brother  and  brother-in-law  held  a  cosultation  as 
to  what  should  be  done  with  me.  They  both  agreed 
that  it  would  not  do  to  let  me  stay  alone,  or  go  at 
large;  some  one  must  be  with  me  at  all  times.  They 
wanted  to  carry  me  to  E-aleigh,  in  order  that  Dr. 
Fisher  might  examine  me,  to  see  whether  or  not  I  was 
insane.  My  brother  approached  me  on  this  subject  very 
tenderly.  I  told  him  that  it  would  do  no  good,  for  all 
the  men  in  the  world  could  not  alter  my  condition,  as 
it  was  not  in  the  power  of  man  to  do  it;  that  I  was 
under  the  irrevocable  sentence  of  God,  my  doom  was 
sealed,  and  my  destiny  fixed.  He  contended  that  I 
was  mistaken,  and  that  no  one  believed  it  to  be  so  but 
myself,  and  that  it  would  give  satisfaction  to  my  rela- 
tives and  friends  for  me  to  go  and  see  Dr.  Fisher,  if  it 
did  no  other  good,  and  he  hoped  I  would  consent  to 
go.  I  then  told  him  plainly  that  I  should  not  consent 
to  go,  and  if  carried  at  all  it  would  be  by  force.  He 
said:  "We  hate  to  do  that,  but  it  will  not  do  to  let 
you  stay  by  yourself.  If  you  will  not  go  to  see  the 
doctor  you  must  go  with  me  or  Squire  Rogers  one." 


124  The  Life  and  Times  of 

I  did  not  like  that  either;  but  if  I  must  do  one,  I 
preferred  going  with  one  of  them. 

So  I  left  home  to  go  with  them.  On  our  way  we 
vvere  met  by  a  dear  uncle  and  aunt  who  had  started  to 
my  house  to  see  me.  I  pleaded  hard  to  return  to  my 
house  with  them  ;  but  they,  seeing  me  so  altered  in 
appearance,  and  learning  more  from  my  brother  and 
the  Squire  about  the  conversation  I  had  with  them 
that  morning,  they  began  to  persuade  me  to  go  home 
with  tiicm,  and  spend  a  few  days. 

As  none  of  the  company  would  listen  to  me  about 
going  back,  I  finally  consented  to  go  with  them,  rather 
than  risk  being  carried  to  Raleigh.  I  had  an  utter 
aversion  to  the  idea  of  going  to  see  Dr.  Fisher.  In 
the  first  place,  I  had  no  doubt  he  would  detect  my 
meanness,  and  expose  me.  If  he  did  not,  he  would  of 
course  pronounce  me  insane,  and  recommend  my  be- 
ing left  in  the  asylum.  Furthermore,  I  believed  then, 
as  I  do  now,  that  Dr.  Fisher  was  a  wise  man,.,  and  a 
great  physician,  "but  a  thousand  such  men  might  have 
examined  me,  and  all  come  to  the  same  conclusion, 
and  it  could  not  have  altered  my  feelings;  and  as  such 
would  not  have  changed  my  mind.  I  was  like  a  man 
in  the  fire.  I  knew  I  was  burning,  (that  is,  I  was  suf- 
fering the  most  excruciating  mental  pain),  therefore  it 
was  useless  to  tell  me  this  or  that,  unless  you  could 
help  me  out  of  the  fire.  My  heart  knew  its  own  bit- 
terness. My  friends  believed  that  something  couW  be 
done  by  human  power  or  human  wisdom  to  relieve 
me.  I  was  altogether  of  a  different  opinion,  and  was 
always  free  to  tell  them  so.     They  would  argue  that 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  125 

nothing  should  be  left  untried.  I  consented  to  many 
things,  merely  to  give  satisfaction  to  relatives  and 
friends,  feeling,  at  the  time,  that  it  would  be  worse 
than  useless.  In  my  own  mind  my  true  condition 
was  clear.  Although  I  was  not  a  downright  hypocrite, 
yet  I  was  no  better;  for  I  had  enjoyed  sufficient  light, 
suitable  means,  tind  ample  time,  to  have  made  the  cor- 
rection, but  had  failed  to  do  it.  I  would  often  say  : 
"Oh!  that  I  had  started  right;  but  I  caught  the 
shadow,  and  missed  the  substance.  Oh  !  that  I  had 
heeded  the  first , warning,  when  I  first  fell  into  doubts 
and  fears  and  was  told  that  it  was  the  temptation  of 
the  devil." 

And  thus  I  would  follow  my  christian  experience 
down  to  my  then  present  condition,  and  attribute  every 
doubt  and  fear  as  a  warning  from  God,  to  induce  me 
to  set  about  rectifying  the  mistake. 

But  in  the  face  of  all  this  light,  and  in  defiance  of 
all  these  warnings,  I  had  rushed  heedlessly  on,  blind- 
folded by  the  devil  and  led  captive  by  him  at  his  will. 
I  was  now  given  over  to  a  hard  heart  and  a  reprobacy 
of  mind  to  believe  a  lie  and  at  last  be  damned.  I  had 
crucified  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  there  remained 
no  more  sacrifice  for  sin.  My  condition  was  deplora- 
ble, and  no  way  under  the  heavens  to  amend  it.  I 
verily  believed  that  I  was  undone  both  for  time  and 
eternity.  I  would  gladly  have  changed  conditions 
with  any  man  on  earth,  no  matter  how  low  or  mean, 
in  hopes  thereby  I  might  possibly  escape  the  wrath  of 
God  and  gain  heaven. 
I  have  heard  people  say  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  be- 


126  The  Life  and  Times  of 

lieve  whatever  one  wished  or  desired  to  believe;  but 
in  my  case  I  found  it  to  be  quite  different.  I  was 
bound  to  believe  just  as  I  did  believe,  however  unwel- 
come to  my  troubled  soul.  I  would  have  believed 
there  was  no  God,  heaven  or  hell,  but  could  not.  I 
knew  that  nothing  short  of  the  power  of  Deity  could 
inflict  the  pain  I  felt.  I  would  have  believed  in  the 
doctrine  of  universal  salvation,  but  found  myself  un- 
able to  do  so.  I  would  have  believed  in  a  purgatory, 
where  I  might  possibly  pay  the  uttermost  farthing, 
and  come  out,  but  eternity  stared  me  in  the  face,  and 
the  unquenchable  fire  kindled  in  my  bosom,  and  the 
worm  that  never  dies  was  already  gnawing  on  the  vi- 
tals of  my  soul. 

All  this  I  felt,  and  fhe  half  is  not  told.  And  to 
make  my  sufferings  still  more  acute,  I  felt  that  I  was 
suffering  justly  ;  that  is,  I  believed  that  God  was  just, 
•merciful  and  good,  as  He  is  represented  in  His  Word, 
and  that  I  justh^  deserved  all  the  pain  and  anguish 
which  I  felt,  and  that  I  would  feel,  and  would  ac- 
knowledge the  justice  of  God  in  sending  me  to  perdi- 
tion, though  I  did  not  want  to  go  there,  neither  did  I 
ever  feel  willing  to  go,  only  by  stern  necessity,  in  order 
to  prevent  my  sins  becoming  more aggrivated,  which  I 
believed  would  augment  my  sufferings  in  hell.  I 
would  have  shunned  hell  at  any  time  if  I  could.  My 
desire  was  to  get  out  of  the  body,  and  if  possible  out  of 
existence;  though  I  knew  that  rocks  and  mountains 
could  not  hide  me  from  the]All-seeingEyeof  God,  and 
that  I  must  appear  at  His  bar  to  receive  my  doom. 

I  will  now  tell  how  I  proceeded,  after  going  home 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  127 

with  my  uncle.  This  was  about  the  first  of  Novem- 
ber, 18G0.  I  tried  to  put  on  the  best  appearance  that 
I  could,  and  would  have  forgotten  the  past  if  possible, 
but  in  spite 'of  all  my  efforts  I  appeared  and  acted 
quite  differently  from  what  I  had  formerly  done.  My 
feelings  underwent  no  change  for  the  better.  On 
Saturday  I  went  to  a  political  meeting  at  Green  Level, 
Wake  county.  L.  0.  B.  Branch  made  a  speech  on  the 
state  of  the  country,  showing  the  critical  position  into 
which  the  whole  South  was  likely  to  be  involved.  I 
recollect  that  he  advocated  the  Breckinridge  ticket. 
Of  course  I  took  no  interest  in  the  meeting,  nor  in  any- 
thing that  was  said.  I  merely  name  this  to  show  how 
retentive  my  memory  is  of  all  that  occurred  in  connec- 
tion with  that  dark  period  of  my  history.  A  great 
many  of  my  friends  and  brethren  were  there,  and  they 
seemed  anxious  to  talk  with  me,  but  I  felt  ashamed  to 
meet  them,  or  to  speak  to  them.  Some  of  them  ques- 
tioned me  very  closely  as  to  the  cause  of  my  being  in 
that  condition.  I  told  them  that  I  had  yielded  to  the 
influence  of  an  evil  spirit,  and  that  I  was  now  unable 
to  extricate  myself  from  his  dominion.  They  would 
quote  scripture  to  me  as  the  flesh  warring  against  the 
spirit,  and,  0,  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  de- 
liver me  from  the  body  of  this  death.  But  it  did  me 
no  good,  as  T  could  claim  no  promise,  either  direct  or 
implied. 

I  returned  that  evening  with  my  uncle  to  his  house. 
After  a  short  time  another  one  of  ray  uncles,  Dempsey 
Johnson,  came  to  see  me.  He  was  on  his  way  home, 
and  called  to  see  me,  and  invited  me  home  with  him. 


128  The  Life  and  Times  of 

After  a  short  conversation  with  him  he  said  I  must 
come  to  see  him  before  I  returned  home,  for  that  he 
was  going  to  get  me  out  of  that  bad  state  in  which  I 
was  involved.  I  replied  :  "Uncle  Dempsey,  you  can- 
not do  it;  I  wish  you  could."  He  replied:  "Yes  I  can. 
Did  you  ever  know  me  to  undertake  anything  and  not 
go  through  with  it?" 

On  the  next  day,  being  Sunday,  a  great  many  of  my 
relatives,  friends  and  brethren  came  to  my  uncle's  to 
see  me.  I  was  in  a  poor  situation  to  meet  them,  and 
ill  prepared  to  talk  with  them.  If  I  told  them  what 
I  conceived  to  be  my  true  state  it  would  shock  them, 
and  if  I  told  them  a  lie  it  would"  only  make  my  case 
worse.  I  therefore  concluded  to  say  as  little  as  possi- 
ble to  any  of  them.  They  would,  however,  continue 
to  urge  me  to  talk,  and  that  in  various  ways.  Some 
of  them  would  take  me  out  privately,  and  by  close  and 
pertinent  questions  insist  on  my  answering  them,  to 
which  I  generally  acceded.  Others  would  ask  ques- 
tions, and  without  waiting  for  me  to  answer  them, 
would  try  to  help  me  by  answering  themselves,  as  they 
would  have  it  to  be.  I  generally  denied  such  answers 
to  be  true.  There  were  one  or  two  preachers  among 
those  who  came  to  see  me  on  that  day,  and  they  in- 
sisted on  my  going  forward  in  preaching,  as  the  best 
and  surest  way  to  get  rid  of  my  bad  feelings;  and  all 
agreed  that  I  ought  to  make  the  attempt.  They  had 
conversed  with  me,  and  heard  my  answers  to  all  their 
interrogations,  and  could  discover  no  defect  in  my 
judgment,  memory,  or  reason.  Indeed,  they  said  there 
was  no  deficiency  to  be  discovered  in   my  mind,  only 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  129 

a  depression  of  spirit.  I  would  not  consent  to  make 
the  attempt,  for  I  was  aware  that  they  little  knew  my 
situation,  or  how  miserable  I  felt.  I  had  just  seen,  in 
a  shadow,  what  awaited  me  at  the  judgment  seat  of 
God.  The  Christians  had  flocked  in  scores  to  see  me. 
They  were  right;  I  was  wrong.  They  were  justified; 
I  was  condemned  ;  they  would  be  saved  ;  but  I  would 
be  lost;  they  would  enter  heaven,  but  I  would  sink  to 
hell.  There  were  some  there  whom  I  baptized,  others 
whom  I  had  joined  in  matrimoHy  ;  and  nearly  all  had 
been  present  at  different  times,  when  the  Holy  Sacra- 
ment was  administered  by  me. 

These  things  had  been  revolving  through  my  mind 
during  all  that  day.  I  felt  that  if  I  should  attempt 
to  preach  under  the  circumstances  which  then  sur- 
rounded me,  I  would  be  guilty  of  one  of  the  most 
heinous  sins  which  it  was  possible  for  me  to  commit. 
I  believed  it  would  be  more  aggravating  in  the  sight  of 
God  than  suicide.  It  appeared  to  me  that  I  would  sin 
presumptuously.  It  would  be  nothing  less  than  using 
deception,  and  trying  to  make  my  brethren,  and  all 
who  might  hear  me,  believe  a  lie.  I  would  not  have 
consented  to  preach  with  all  these  things  pressing 
upon  my  mind  for  my  firll  weight  in  gold.  Nothing 
short  of  an  assurance  of  faith  to  believe  that  the  at- 
tempt would  be  the  means  of  lifting  me  out  of  my  un- 
happy condition  would  have  induced  me  to  try  to 
preach  ;  yet  I  was  ofttimes  and  repeatedly  persuaded  to 
do  it  by  my  best  friends.  I  did  not  doubt  the  purity 
of  their  motives  then,  neither  do  I  now. 

Seeing  all  their  attempts  fail  to  induce  me  to  con- 


130  The  Life  and  Times  of 

sent  to  try  to  preach,  they  had  recourse  to  another  ex-  m 
pedient,  which  was,  to  get  my  consent  to  go  to  meet- 
ing. I  at  first  refused,  knowing,  as  I  did,  that  it  would 
bring  up  my  former  ministry  and  everything  con- 
nected with  it  fresh  in  my  memory.  I  believed  that  I 
would  appear  and  feel  like  the  man  without  the  wed- 
ding garment.  But  after  long  and  hard  persuasion  I 
consented-to  go,  by  being  assured  that  I  should  not  be  ' 
urged  to  take  any  part  in  the  public  exercises  of  the 
meeting.  The  meeting  was  at  Olive's  Chapel,  brotiier 
J.  C.  Wilson  to  be  the  preacher.  A  very  large  con- 
gregation assembled.  I  was  of  opinion  that  they  came 
more  out  of  curiosity  to  see  me  than  to  hear  preach- 
ing, as  it  had  been  published  that  I  would  be  there. 
Now,  this  church  had  been  built  near  where  I  had 
been  raised,  and  almost  in  sight  of  my  former  resi- 
dence, where  myself  and  family  had  lived  some 
eighteen  or  twenty  years.  I  was  in  the  midst  of  my 
relatives,  friends,  neighbors  and  brethren,  all  anxious 
to  see  me,  and,  if  possible,  aid  in  setting  me  right 
again.  * 

"  I  shall  never  be  able  to  describe  ray  feelings  on  that 
occasion.  No  one  knew  what  was  passing  through  my 
mind,  but  my  own  heart  knew  its  ow^  bitterness. 
The  preacher  came,  and  with  him  a  great  many  of  the 
members  of  Shady  Grove  church,  where  my  member- 
ship was,  and  had  been  from  my  first  connection  with 
the  Church  of  God.  The  preacher,  who  was  my  own 
dear  cousin,  invited  me  to  go  with  him  into  the  stand, 
where  I  bad  stood  for  years  and  preached  to  the  people ; 
but  oh  !  with  what  different  feelings  from  whaf^I  now 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  131 

had.  I  begged  to  be  excused  ;  but  by  his  importunity  I 
finally  consented  to  sit  in  the  stand  while  he  preached. 
We  went  into  the  pulpit  together.  I  took  my  seat,  and 
he  very  soon  rose  to  commence  the  services.  I  felt  just 
like  I  was  where  I  ought  not  to  be.  I  thought  that  I 
would  have  given  the  world,  if  it  had  been  at  my  dis- 
posal, to  be  as  good  a  man  as  cousin  J.  C.  Wilson,  who 
then  stood  before  me.  I  thought  of  the  time  when 
Christ  and  His  disciples  were  partaking  of  the  pass- 
over  supper,  and  when  our  Saviour  said  :  "  One  of 
you  shall  betray  me,"  and  when  the  beloved  disciple 
asked  who  it  was.  I  felt  that  I  was  a  second  Judas, 
and  that  cousin  John  was  another  beloved  disciple. 
I  tried  to  use  some  words  of  prayer  asking  God  to 
change  me  from  Judas  to  John,  but  I  had  neither  the 
spirit  nor  the  faith  of^prayer. 

After  singing  and  prayer,  cousin  John  introduced 
his  text  from  Matthew,  7th  chapter,  24th  to  the  27th 
verses  inclusive.  The  subject  was  the  wise  man  and 
the  fool.  The  wise  man  built  his  house  on  the  rock, 
but  the  foolish  man  built  his  house  on  the  sand.  He 
had  selected  this  text  on  purpose  to  establish  me  on 
the  sure  foundation  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  to 
show  that  none  of  the  storms  or  tempests  of>life  would 
ever  be  able  to  demolish  the  Christian's  edifice.  That 
no  circumstance,  or  combination  of  circumstances,  nor 
any  other  power,  would  ever  be  able  to  separate  us 
from  the  love  of  Christ. 

The  preacher  took  up  the  most  of  his  time  on  the 
first  part  of  his  subject,  the  wise  man  and  his  house, 
and  its  sure  foundation.     I  would  frequently  use  the 


132  The  Life  and  Times  of 

words  of  an  ejaculatory  prayer  in  a  whisper;  but,  as 
before  stated,  I  was  destitute  of  both  the  spirit  and 
faith  of  prayer.  In  fact,  I  had  examined  this  pass- 
age of  Scripture  before,  in  regard  to  my  awful  condi- 
tion, when  I  was  seeking  for  the  cause  which  had  pro- 
duced the  sad  effect;  and  I  had  found  here  ray  folly 
in  building  on  the  sand,  as  I  had  found  it  when  I 
caught  the  shadow  ard  missed  the  substance.  I  had 
seen- in  imagination,  and  as  I  thought  by  an  eye  of 
faith,  that  the  sand  was  giving  way,  and  my  house  was 
careening,  and  that  all  my  efiForts  to  prop  it  or  brace  it 
up  would  prove  unavailing  and  useless,  as  it  was  bound 
to  fall,  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  man  to  prevent  it. 

While  Brother  Wilson  was  preaching,  the  whole 
subject  seemed  more  clear  and  visible  to  my  mind 
than  ever  before.  I-lost  all  the  former  part  of  his  dis- 
course, for  it  was  clear  to  my  mind  that  I  had  not  built 
my  house  on  the  rock  ;  therefore  I  could  claim  none 
of  the  promises,  and  T  was  not  an  heir  of  the  promise. 

When  he  took  up  the  last  part  of  his  subject,  (the 
foolish  man  who  built  his  house  on  the  sand,)  my  con- 
science said :  "  Thou  art  the  man !"  Every  word 
fitted  my  case;  every  sentence  was  truth,  though  un- 
welcome truth  to  me;  for  I  saw  my  folly  and*  my 
dreadful  doom  ;  and  great  would  be  my  fall.  I  wished 
that  I  had  not  come  to  meeting;  for  I  felt  that  I  was 
worse  than  the  man  who  commenced  building  without 
counting  the  cost,  and  wa's  not  able  to  finish,  when  all 
who  saw  it  began  to  mock  or  laugh,  saying :  "This 
man  began  to  build,  but  was  not  able  to  finish."  [ 
would  think  of  getting  up  and  making  a  public  con- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  133 

fession  that  I  was  the  man  who  had  built  his  house 
on  the  sand,  but  that  would  do  no  good,  for  they  would 
be  unable  to  help  me;  it  would  also  be  unpleasant  to 
my  friends ;  so  I  kept  my  seat  till  the  sermon  was  fin- 
ished and  the  congregation  dismissed.  I  would  have 
gladly  disappeared,  by  going  out  through  the  wall,  or 
under  the  stand,  or  in  any  other  way  which  would 
have  prevented  me  from  being  seen.  But  there  was 
no  way  for  me  except  to  face  the  crowd.  Hopeless 
despair  had  laid  fast  hold  upon  me.  I  felt  more  mis- 
erable, if  possible,  than  I  had  ever  felt  before.  I  came 
down  from  the  stand  into  the  aisle  of  the  church  with 
the  most  dejected  countenance  you  ever  saw,  where  I 
was  met  by  the  female  members  of  the  church — loving 
mothers  and  sisters  in  Israel.  They  were  hoping  that 
the  sermon  had  set  all  things  right  with  me.  Their 
pleasant  smiles  and  sweet  voices,  while  greeting  me 
with  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand,  spoke  volumes;  but 
failed  to  give  my  poor  heart  any  relief.  They  were 
filled  with  sympathy,  and  would  have  gladly  raised 
their  gentle  hands  to  brush  the  heavy  load  from  off 
my  mind,  which  they  saw  too  plainly  was  crushing 
me  down.  But  my  sufferings  were  of  such  a  nature 
that  I  was  perfectly  conscious  no  human  power  could 
relieve  me.  I  made  my  way  through  the  aisle  and 
out  at  the  door  as  soon  as  I  well  could,  feeling,  as  I 
supposed,  like  Judas  did  when  he  received  the  sop  and 
went  out. 

Things  had  gone  too  far,  and  my  guilt  was  made 
too  plain,  to  think  of  trying  to  make  any  amendments 
for  the  past,  or  any  preparation  for  the  future.     And 


134  The  Life  and  Times  of 

this  passage  of  Scripture  flashed  through  my  mind  : 
"  What  thou  doest,  do  quickly,"  and  I  felt  if  I  had  au 
opportunity  I  would  do  as  Judas  did,  and  go  to  my 
own  place. 

As  I  came  put  of  the  house  and  started  off,  several 
of  the  brethren  followed  me.  When  we  had  gone  a 
short  distance  I  began  to  make  my  confessions.  I 
told  them  that  I  had  started  wrong  ;  that  I  had  caught 
the  shadow  and  missed  the  substance ;  had  built  my 
house  upon  the  sand,  ^id  npt  upon  the  rock,  and  now 
I  saw  my  folly.  My  house  was  falling,  and  no  way 
under  the  heavens  to  prevenf  it.  They  a^ed  me  why 
I  did  not  take  the  first  part  of  the  sermon,  and  said  I 
ought  to  have  done  so,  as  it  was  intended  for  me.  I 
told  them  that  the  preacher  had  pointed  out  my  doom 
in  the  latter  part  of  his  discourse,  and  I  was  bound  to 
submit  to  it.  They  asked  me  if  I  thought  the  preacher 
had  given  a  true  exposition  of  the  text.  I  replied 
that  I  did,  but  that  it  was  so  much  the  worse  for  me, 
as  I  was  on  a  sandy  foundation.  They  asked  me  if  I 
did  not  think  a  man  should  not  speak  the  truth.  I 
answered,  "Yes;  if  he  preaches  at  all,  he  sho»ld 
speak  the  truth."  I  then  told  them  that  I  was  not  find- 
ing fault  of  the  sermon  at  all,  but  that  the  truth  was 
what  hurt,  when  it  fell  upon  a  guilty  mind.  I  fur- 
thermore told  them  that  I  regretted  my  condition  as 
much  as  any  of  them  could  regret  it,  but  that  it  was 
a  dreadful  reality,  and  could  not  be  otherwise.  Some 
of  them  remarked  that  if  I  had  no  religion  there  was 
no  such  thing  as  religion  in  the  world.     "  Yes,"  said 


^      Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  135 

another,  "  I  heard  a  good  brother  say  the  other  day 
if  you  did  not  possess  the  grace  of  God  it  would  be 
useless  to  look  for  it  in  any  other  man." 

I  well  understood  that  their  object  was  to  try  to  en- 
courage me  to  lay  hold  on  the  hope  set  before  me  ;  but 
I  was  divested  of  all  Uppe  and  faith  so  far  as  I  could 
discover,  and  as  such  they  found  nothing  in  me  upon 
which  •the}'  could  operate.  Some  of  them  proposed 
to  bring  me  a  pen  and  ink,  to  see  if  I  would  blot  out 
the  whole  concern  of  the  Christian  religion.  I  then 
told  them  that  I  had  no  doubts  upon  the  reality  of 
the  Christian  religion;  I  believed  the  Bible  to  be  a 
rev.elation  from  God  to  man  as  honestly  and  as  firmly 
as  i  ever  did,  and  that  this  way  that  some  had  of 
measuring  thei»  religion  by  other  men's  religion  was 
contrary  to  scripture  and  reason  ;  that  I  was  not  the 
standard  by  which  they  would  be  tried,  but  that  all 
would  be  tried  by  the  Word  of  God.  I  had  been  tried 
myself  by  that  standard,  and  found  that  I  was  want- 
ing ;  that  I  had.  never  taught  that  men  should  believe 
in  me  or  any  otherman,  but  if  men  would  stumble  over 
me  and  fall  into  hell  I  could  not  help  it. 

This  was  about  the  substance  of  our  conversation 
that  evening.  The  crowd  dispersed,  and  I  returned  to 
my  uncle's.  My  situation  was  no  better.  The  state 
of  my  mind  was  rather  growing  worse.  I  had  but 
little  to  say  to  any  one,  only  to  answer  such  questions 
as  they  proposed  to  me,  and  of  that  I  soon  became 
weary. 


136  _  The  Life  and  Times  of 


CHAPTER  XL 

In  a  day  or  two  I  left  my  uncle  Daniel's  and  went 
over  to  my  uncle  Dempsey  Thompson's,  and  after  stay- 
ing with  him  a  few  days,  he  made  arrangements  for 
me  to  return  home.  I  was  not  permitted  to  travel 
alone,  or  left  alone  anywhere,  except  for  a  very  short 
time. 

When  I  arrived  home  I  felt  glad  to  see  my  wife  and 
children  for  a  few  minutes.  But  I  soon  became  rest- 
less. My  agony  of  mind  was  so  great  that  nothing 
was  of  much  satisfaction  to  me.  My  mental  torture 
seemed  to  increase  daily,  so  much  so  that  I  would 
think  every  day  would  be  my  last.  I  would  fre- 
quently tell  my  wife  and  some  other  intimate  friends 
that  I  could  not  survive  another  day  under  the  heavy 
load  which  was  pressing  me  down.  I  had  sought 
death,  but  could  not  find  it.  It  now  appeared  to  me 
that  I  was  constantly  sufiPering  the  agonies  of  a  sin- 
ner's death  without  being  permitted  to  expire. 

My  father-in-law,  Alsey  Hunter,  was  lying  at  the 
point  of  death  when  I  left  to  go  home  with  my  uncle 
and  aunt  some  week  ago,  and  about  this  time  he  died. 
Brother  P.  W.  Dowd  was  called  on  to  preach  his 
funeral.  My  uncle  Dempsey  Johnson  carried  me  to 
the  funeral — or  rather,  went  with  me.     I  felt  awful. 

After  my  father-in-law  was  buried  brother  Dowd 
sought  an  interview  with  me.  He  asked  me  several 
questions,  and  tried  to  console  me  by  saying:  "  Every- 
body is  concerned  about  you,  and  the  christians  are 
all  praying  for    you;"    and  said  that  some  of  the 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.        *  137 

churches  were  uniting  in  special  prayer  for  me,  and 
tliat  he  thought  I  would  soon  be  all  right.  I  told  him 
some  of  my  awful  feelings.  He  said  to  me:  "You 
have  never  thought  about  taking  your  own  life,  have 
you?"  I  told  him  that  I  had.  He  replied:  "That 
is  horrid,  brother  Olive.  Don't  let  such  a  thought 
come  into  your  mind  ;  it  is  wicked  and  sinful." 

After  giving  me  some  good  advice,  which  I  was  not 
prepared  to  reduce  to  practice,  we  parted. 

I  was  passing  home  and  back  again  to  my  uncle's, 
or  with  some  of  my  relatives,  for  some  two  or  three 
weeks.  During  this  time  I  was  getting  no  better,  but 
things  were  hastening  to  a  more  fearful  crisis.  I  was 
frequently  urged  to  go  and  see  Dr.  Fisher.  I  had 
thought  that  I  never  would  go,  unless  I  was  forced 
to  do  so  by  arbitrary  power;  but  words  of  kindness, 
pursuasive  arguments  and  fair  promises,  induced  me, 
for  the  sake  of  others,  to  go.  I  had  no  idea  that  it 
would  do  me  any  good.  I  dreaded  Dr.  Fisher,  for  I 
believed  h€  would  either  pronounce  me  a  hypocrite  or 
insane,  'and  I  should  be  deprived  of  my  liberties. 
Thomas  J.  Hunter,  J.  W.  Rogers  and  wife,  and  my 
own  dear  wife,  all  united  in  persuading  me  to  go. 
After  getting  my  consent,  T.  J.  Hunter,  my  brother- 
in-law,  was  to  go  with  me.  We  started  in  a  buggy; 
we  had  gone  but  a  short  distance  when  I  repented  my 
bargain.  I  jumped  out  of  the  buggy  and  started 
back.  He  sat  still,  and  by  kind  words  and  fair  prom- 
ises that  he  would  certainly  bring  me  back  again,  I 
went  back  to  him. 

When  we  had  gone  some  two-thirds  of  the  distance 


138  The  Life  and  Times  of 

my  heart  failed  again.  I  jumped  out  again,  and  told 
him  he  might  go  if  he  choose  to  do  so,  but  that  I 
should  not.  He  kept  his  seat,  as  before,  and  by  kind 
words  and  fair  speeches,  he  brought  me  to  terms  again. 
He  was  a  noble- hearted  man. 

We  went  on  to  Raleigh  that  night,  and  stayed  with 
Mr.  Eldridge  Smith.  When  we  arrived  there  we  found 
my  brother-in-law,  J.  W.  Rogers,  and  wife,  were  also 
there.  I  was  sure  that  there  was  some  preconcerted 
plan  on  foot  in  regard  to  my  case.  A  thousand 
thoughts  revolved  through  my  mind.  I  began  to 
doubt  the  sincerity  of  my  dearest  friends,  for  they  had 
promised  to  bring  me  back  to  my  family  in  order  to 
induce  me  to  consent  to  go;  but  now  everything 
seemed  to  indicate  that  they  intended  to  get  me  into 
the  asylum.  I  would  rather  have  died  than  go  there, 
and  I  thought  if  I  had  an  instrument  of  death  I  would 
use  it.  But  as  I  had  none,  and  no  chance  to  get  any, 
I  must  abide  the  consequences. 

Next  morning  my  friends  asked  me  if  I  would  go 
with  them  to  the  asylum  to  see  Dr.  Fisher.  I  told 
them  no,  not  by  my  consent.  They  then  asked  me  if 
I  was  willing  that  the  doctor  should  come  and  see  me 
where  I  was.  I  told  them  it  would  do  no  good.  But 
they  insisted  that  he  must  see  me  some  how,  and  ^ave 
me  my  choice,  to  goto  see  him  or  have  him  invited  to 
come  and  see  me  where  I  was.  I  replied  that  if  I  must 
see  him  I  would  rather  he  would  come  to  me,  as  I 
should  never  consent  to  go  to  him. 

They  then  left  me  at  Mr.  Smith's  and  in  a  short 
time  returned   with  Dr.   Fisher.     I  was  invited  to  go 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  139 

into  the  parlor,  aud  in  a  few  minutes  the  doctor  and 
my  brothers-in-law,  Rogers,  Hunter  and  Smith,  came 
in.     I  was  introduced  to  the  doctor  immediately,  after 
which  he  commenced  conversation  with  me.    He  asked 
me  a  great  many  questions  relative  to   where  I  lived, 
my  age,  the  number  of  my  children,  my  occupation, 
&c.     He  also  interrogated  me  in  regard  to  my  habits 
of  living;  whether  I  used  tobacco  or  drank  spirits,  &c. 
I  told  him  that  I  used  tobacco,  both  by  chewing  and 
smoking,  but  as  to  spirits,  I  never  used  it  except  as  a 
medicine,  in  sickness.     He  then  asked  me  about  my 
health  ;  said  I  was  looking  well,  but  that  he  had  heard 
that  I  was  ailing,  and  wished  me  to  tell  him  what  was 
amiss  with  me.     I  told  him  I  was   troubled   in  mind, 
and  had  been  for  some  time.    He  asked  me  upon  what 
subject  I  was  troubled.     I  replied  :  *'  Upon  the  subject 
of  religion."     He  asked  me  the  cause  which  had  pro- 
duced that  distress  of  mind,  and  I  replied  to  him,  as  I 
had  replied  to  others,  that  I  supposed  it  was  the  devil. 
He  asked  me  if  I  supposed  the  devil   had  power  to 
force  men  to  sin,  (as  I  had  just  told  him  that  I  feared 
I  had  committed   the  unpardonable   sin).    I  told  him 
that  I  had  not  been  in  the  habit  of  thinking  so.     He 
asked  me  what  I  thought  about  it  now.     I  told  him 
that  the  devil  was  very  subtle  and   cunning,  for  the 
Scripture  said  that  he  could  transform  himself  into  an 
angel  of  light  and   that  he  had   deceived  and  misled 
many.     The  doctor  then  said  that  he  was  no  theolo- 
gian, and  that  I  had  better  talk  with  some  old  minis- 
ter of  the  Gospel  about  these  things.  He  then  asked  me  , 
some  questions  about  how  long  I  had  been  preaching, 


140  The  Life  and  Times  op 

and  whether  I  had  acted  honest  and  sincere  in  my 
professions  and  ministrations,  and  what  were  my  views 
and  feelings  about  these  things  now.  I  told  him 
that  while  I  had  been  engaged  in  these -things  I 
felt  that  I  was  honest,  and  that  I  had  acted  with  a 
conscience  void  of  offence  both  towards  God  and  man  ; 
but  now  things  appeared  differently. 

He  then  asked  me  if  I  did  not  feel  interested  in  my 
familv.  I  told  him  no  ;  not  as  I  had  done.  He  said 
I  ought  to  feel  interested  in  them,  for  that  a  man's 
first  duty  was  to  take  care  of  his  family  if  he  had  one, 
I  confessed  the  truth  of  what  he  said,  but  told  him  that 
it  was  not  the  case  with  me,  for  that  I  only  felt  to  wish 
them  well,  but  that  I  was  doing  nothing  for  their 
welfare. 

He  then  asked  me  if  I  knew  how  to  work.  I  told 
him  that  I  did,  for  that  I  was  raised  to  work.  He  then 
asked  me  if  I  worked  when  I  was  at  home.  I  replied: 
Not  of  late,  for  that  I  felt  so  wretched  that  I  took  no 
interest  in  anything.  He  asked  me  if  I  owned  land. 
I  told  him  that  I  did,  but  that  it  was  not  paid  for. 
He  then  told  me  that  he  would  advise  me  what  course 
he  thought  I  had  best  pursue,  which  was  to  go  home 
and  go  to  work  for  my  family ;  to  relinquish  all 
thoughts  about  preaching  for  the  present,  for  that  I 
was  unfit  to  perform  any  pastoral  duties  in  my  present 
condition.  He  also  said  I  must  quit  the  use  of  to- 
bacco— neither  chew  or  smoke — and  as  a  substitute  to 
get  some  good  whiskey  and  make  some  bitters  and 
take  two  or  three  drams  of  that  each  day,  and  in  two 
weeks  come  back  and  report  to  him.     I  made  no  reply. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  141 

He  asked  me  if  I  would  do  it.  I  then  replied  that  I 
did  not  know  whether  I  would  or  not,  as  I  did  not 
know  how  I  should  feel  at  that  time.  He  said  I  must 
do  it,  and  repeated  his  advice  again,  and  said  :  "  Will 
you  do  it?"  I  hesitated  to  answer,  for  I  was  then  de- 
termined not  to  do  it,  and  in  particular  not  to  come 
back  in  two  weeks,  for  I  was  of  opinion  that  they  were 
making  arrangements  to  get  me  into  the  asylum.  He 
again  insisted  on  an  answer,  and  said  I  must  come. 
I  told  him  that. I  did  not  know  where  I  should  be,  or 
how  it  would  be  with  me  two  weeks  hence. 

I  gave  him  no  promise  to  report  back.  The  truth 
is,  things  were  not  working  to  my  notion,  and  I  ex- 
pected to  be  dead  and  in  hell  before  two  weeks,  but  I 
dare  not  say  so  then. 

The  doctor  and  my  brothers-in-law  then  went  out 
of  the  room  and  held  a  short  consultation,  and  mv 
mind  was  filled  with  imaginations.  My  feelings  were 
wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  withall  I  was  a 
little  angry,  for  I  believed  that  they  had  detected 
some  of  my  meanness,  and  were  about  to  take  me  off 
whether  I  consented  or  not. 

They  soon  returned,  and  the  doctor  repeated  over 
his  advice,  and  said  I  must  do  as  he  had  directed,  for 
that  he  had  discovered  that  I  was  not  a  deranged  man. 
I  replied  that  I  knew  that  as  well  as  he  did,  but  that 
I  was  laboring  under  some  disordered  state  of  the  mind. 
He  looked  at  me  with  a  very  stern  and  rigid  counte- 
nance, and  said  it  was  a  corrupted  state  of  the  heart, 
and  left  me,  with  a  request  that  I  should  come  to  see 
him  in  two  weeks. 


142  The  Life  and  Times  of 

Thus  ended  my  interview  with  Dr.  Fisher.  I  felt 
that  he  had  detected  enough  about  me  to  believe  that 
I  was  a  hypocrite,  and  had  been  a  devil  from  the  be- 
ginning. I  knew  that  I  could  not  avoid  my  condition, 
and  although  I  considered  myself  the  vilest  wretch  on 
God's  earth,  yet  I  could  not  help  feeling  offended  with 
the  doctor  for  telling  me  that  it  was  a  corrupted  state 
of  the  heart,  I  believed  that  it  would  now  be  pub- 
lished from  Dan  to  Bersheba,  and  that  my  name  and 
family  would  become  infamous,  and  go  do"wn  to  pos- 
terity with  everlasting  contempt.  As  to  my  own  part, 
I  cared  but  little,  but  the  thing  which  I  had  feared  for 
weeks  and  months  was  now  at  hand ;  that  is,  my  con- 
duct would  disgrace  my  famJly  and  bring  a  reproach 
upon  everything  good  with  which  I  was  connected. 

In  reflecting  on  my  interview  with  Dr.  Fisher,  I 
now  believe  that  he  was  like  all  my  other  friends, 
prompted  by  the  purest  of  motives  in  all  that  he  done 
and  said.  I  entertain  a  very  high  opinion  of  him, 
and  feel  under  many  obligations  to  him  for  conde- 
scending to  meet  me  at  the  house  of  my  brother-in- 
law,  E.  Smith. 

I  think  that  I  have  given  the  substance  of  the  con- 
versation between  Dr.  Fisher  and  myself.  If  I  have 
stated  anyttiing  incorrectly,  it  is  an  error  of  the  head 
and  not  of  the  heart. 

My  friends  and  relatives  were  now  making  every 
effort  to  relieve  me,  if  possible,  from  the  unhappy  con- 
dition in  which  I  found  myself  placed.  They  had 
made  arrangements  for  my  uncle  Dempsey  Johnson, 
brother  to  my  mother,  to  take   me  under  his  care  and 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  143 

supervision.     I  bad  always  had   a  great  affection   for 
him,  and  be  had  been   my  strong  and  steady  friend. 
I  would   talk   with   him   more  freely  than   with   any 
other  person.     He  asked  me  many  questiobs,  and  from 
what  I  had  told  him  in  the  commencement  of  my  dis- 
satisfaction in  regard  to   my   home,  he  was  led  to  be- 
lieve that  if  I  could  be  taken   from   my   present  loca- 
tien  and  carried  back  in  the  midst  of  my  relatives 
and  former  neighbors,  it  would  have  the  happy  effect 
of  relieving  me  of  my  troubles  of  mind.     (I  will  re- 
mark here  that  soon  after  I  discovered  something  amiss 
in  my  mind  I  became  dissatisfied  with  my  home,  and 
felt  that  I  had   made  a  bad  bargain  in    buying  this 
place.     I  felt  that  it  was  undesirable,  and   wished   I 
had  never  come  here,  for  it  appeared  that  everything 
was  badly   arranged  and  ill   contrived,  and  was  fast 
going  to  wreck  and   ruin.     I   made  some  attempt  to 
sell  or  change  my  home  for  one  that  I  thought  would 
suit  me  better.     And  from  my  conversation  with  him 
and  others  about  that  time,  they  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  it  was  owing  to  my  being  dissatisfied  with 
my  home  which  had  produced  my   unhappy  state  of 
mind.     I  came  to  the  same  conclusion  myself  for  a 
time,  but  did  not  continue  in  that  notion  long.)     But 
being  pressed  hard  to  try  the  experiment  by  leaving 
my  present  home  and   locality,  and   remove  back  to 
my  old  neighborhpod,  I  consented  to  do  so. 

During  the  interval  while  things  were  being  made 
ready  for  my  removal,  I  was  growing  worse  daily,  and 
my  uncle  visited  me  often,  and  would  take  me  home 
with  him  occasionally. 


144  The  Life  and  Times  of 

Thus,  before  the  time  arrived  for  me  to  move,  I  had 
seen  and  felt  enough  to  be  convinced  that  the  cause  of 
my  uneasiness  of  mind  was  not  in  my  home,  or  any 
other  external  thing;  for  I  found  that  change  of  place 
did  not  change  the  state  of  my  mind.  My  friends  had 
made  the  necessary  arrangements  in  providing  a  home 
for  me  and  my  family  near  where  I  was  raised,  and  in 
the  midst  of  my  brothers  and  sisters,  and  near  to  my 
mother:  also  where  I  would  be  surrounded  by  long 
and  tried  friends  and  neighbors.  No  pains  had  been 
spared  on  their  part  to  make  my  new  home  pleasant 
and  comfortable  when  1  should  get  there.  They  had 
also  employed  a  man  to  take  possession  of  my  present 
home,  and  work  the  farm  on  shares. 

I  was  getting  worse,  and  felt  that  another  awful  crisis 
was  rapidly  approaching.  I  regretted  very  much  that  I 
had  ever  consented  to  leave  my  present  home.  I  felt 
sure  that  all  the  trouble  and  expense  of  fixing  up  and 
moving  would  be  in  vain,  for  the  reason  that  it  would  do 
no  good,  and  that  the  burden  would  fall  heavy  on  my 
best  friends.  I  believed,  as  I  had  for  some  time,  that 
I  was  undone  for  time  and  eternity,  and  often  wished 
that  I  had  ended  my  present  life  when  I  made  the  at- 
tempt. My  uncle  would  use  all  the  arguments  that 
he  could  think  of  in  order  to  inspire  faith  and  hope 
in  me.  He  would  tell  me  that  when  I  got  up  there  I 
would  soon  be  all  right,  and  then  I  would  resume  ray 
calling,  and  go  on  in  the  discharge  of  my  ministerial 
duties  as  I  had  formerly  done.  A  day  or  two  before  I 
was  to  move  my  uncle  came  down  to  see  me,  I  had 
been   thinking  that  day  that  I  would   make  another 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  145 

effort  to  break  the  chord  of  life.  I  dreaded  to  see  my 
uncle.  I  knew  he  had  his  plan  arranged,  and  would 
be  sure  to  carry  it  out  if  within  the  limits  of  his  power. 
I  felt  equally  sure  that  after  all  which  might  or  could 
be  done,  I  must  sooner  or  later  die  a  dreadful  death  ; 
and  as  I  had  no  hope  of  amendment,  I  felt  the  tempting 
suggestion  of  the  enemy  which  I  had  so  often  felt  be- 
fore:  "  What  thou   doest,  do  quickly." 

But  I  failed,  as  I  had  done  before.  I  went  home  with 
my  uncle,  and  stayed  all  night  w4th  him,  and  next 
morning  I  began  to  dissuade  him  from  carrying  on  his 
plan  any  further.  I  insisted  that  he  stop  all  his 
concern  about  moving  me  up  to  the  place  which  had 
been  provided  for  me,  and  to  let  me  return  home  and 
stay  there  as  long  as  I  could.  I  told  him  that  it  would 
be  the  worst  step  which  could  be  taken,  as  it  would  do 
no  good  to  any  person  and  prove  injurious  to  many, 
and  that  I  should  consider  myself  the  cause  of  all  the 
evil  which  must  result  from  the  same.  My  uncle 
would  not  consent  to  stop  short  of  a  trial.  He  said 
the  arrangements  were  all  made,  and  that  the  plan 
must  be  carried  out.  On  that  day  the  wagons  were  to 
come  down  to  my  house  in  order  to  move  me.  The 
sale  at  my  father-in-law's,  Alsa  Hunter,  was  now  on 
hand.  My  wife  was  there.  I  had  stayed  with  brother 
P.  W.  Dowd  one  night.  Went  home  with  him  from 
the  gale.  He  tried  hard  to  inspire  me  with  hope  and 
faith  ;  but  all"  in  vain.  I  felt  perfectly  dead  to  all 
spiritual  things.  My  feelings  were  awful  while  I  was 
with  him.  Reflection  on  the  past  brought  fresh  in  my 
memory  the  many  pleasant  and  happy  hours  and 
7 


146  The  Life  and  Times  of 

days  which  I  had  enjoyed  in  his  company  while  I  was 
a  member  of  his  family;  but  now  all  these  things 
were  departed,  never  to  return.  I  thought  of  the 
great  gulf  between  Dives  and  Lazarus,  and  I  felt  like 
the  same  gulf  was  between  me  and  heaven,  and  sub- 
stantially between  all  Christians  and  myself.  My 
uncle  came  home  with  me  from  the  sale,  and  the 
wagons  were  there,  in  order  to  take  me  and  my  family 
to  our  new  home  next  day.  I  spent  a  miserable  night. 
I  slept  but  little,  and  felt  that  I  would  rather  die  than 
leave.  I  would  throw  myself  on  the  bed  and  remain 
awhile,  and  then  get  up  and  walk;  but  found  no  rest 
to  my  troubled  soul.  When  the  time  arrived  for  me 
to  start  I  refused  to  go.  But  being  persuaded  by  my 
best  friends,  and  knowing  that  my  wife  and  children 
would  be  carried  whether  I  consented  or  not,  I  finally 
consented  to  go.  T  went  to  the  sale,  and  there  joined 
my  wife  in  the  journey  to  our  new  home.  I  told  her 
that  we  had  done  wrong  in  giving^  our  consent  to  go; 
but  she  said  that  she  hoped  it  would  be  for  the  best ; 
that  her  faith  was  strong.  I  replied  that  I  was  glad 
that  her  faith  was  strong,  but  that  I  felt  as  bad  as  if  I 
were  going  to  the  gallows,  and  was  conscious  that  it 
would  do  me  no  good.  She  replied  that  the  step  which 
she  had  taken  had  been  recommended  by  my  relatives 
and  friends,  and  that  she  was  willing  to  do  anything 
which  would  contribute  to  my  interest.  The  wagons 
had  gone  on  with  our  plunder,  and  I  and  my  wife 
went  up  in  my  buggy.  When  we  arrived,  my  friends 
and  relatives  had  arranged  things  in  a  very  comfort- 
able manner,  but  the  effect  on^my  mind  was  anything 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  147 

but  pleasant:  for  I  felt  that  it  was  all  labor  and  ex- 
pense for  no  profit.  I  viewed  the  whole  procedure  as 
ruinous  to  my  family,  and  felt  that  I  was  the  cause  of 
all  the.  unhappy  consequences  which  must  result  from 
the  same.  My  mental  pain  became  more  intense,  and 
the  tortures  of  my  mind  were  intolerable. 

My  friends  now  began  to  advise  with  me,  and  use 
every  exertion  which  lay  within  their  power  to  set  me 
right.  Every  neighbor  and  friend  became  a  preacher 
to  me;  and  while  I  doubted  not  their  sincerity  and 
purpose,  the  purity  of  their  motives,  or  the  truthful- 
ness of  their  teachings,  I  had  not  faith  to  believe,  and, 
as  such,  it  profited  me  nothing.  I  shall  never  forget 
the  great  and  mighty  efforts  made  by  some  of  my 
friends  to  raise  me  out  of  that  dark  and  gloomy  pit 
into  which  I  had  fallen.  Dempsey  Johnson  and  A.  C. 
Richardson  seemed  to  take  the  deepest  interest  in  the 
matter;  and  I  fear  they  will  never  be  able  to  preach 
to  others  with  such  power  and  energy  as  they  did  to 
me;  if  they  should,  I  feel  certain  that  their  preaching 
will  have  a  better  effect  on  others  than  it  did  on  me; 
for  I  was  as  the  nether-millstone— no  faith,  no  hope, 
in  short  they  found  nothing  in  me  upon  which  they 
could  operate. 

Being  now  at  my  new  home,  I  felt  that  I  was  sur- 
rounded with  former  friends  and  comforters,  but  I  was 
not  to  them  what  I  had  been,  neither  could  they  be  to 
me  what  they  oiice  were.  I  was  unfit  for  any  social 
communication,  I  would  rather  be  alone,  and  would 
seek  every  opportunity  to  leave  company,  to  mood 
and  grieve  over  my  awful  doom.     At  times  I  would 


148  The  Life  and  Times  of 

feel  a  little  irritated,  and  like  Israel  of  old,  I  would 
murmur  "against  Moses  and  against  God."  That  is, 
I  would  endeavor  to  attach  blame  to  somebody  be- 
"sides  myself.  I  would  think  why  it  was  that  I  was 
suffered  to  go  on  under  delusion  till  things  had 
reached  such  an  awful  crisis.  Why  had  not  chris- 
tians instructed  me  moire  faithfully  and  clearly  in  re- 
gard to  those  things?  A.nd  Vvhy  had  God  not  made 
known  the  delusion  in  time  for  me  to  make  amends? 
But  after  maturing  the  subject  in  my  mind  I  would 
come  to  the  inevitable  conclusion  that  I  alone  was 
guilty  of  all  the  evil  which  had  come  upon  me,  and 
that  I  must  confess  God  to  be  just  in  my  damnation, 
though  I  was  unwilling  to  receive  justice,  for  I  never 
did  feel  willir>g  to  go  to  hell ;  yet  I  believed  that  I 
should  go  there,  and  that  God  would  be  just  in  send- 
ing me  to  destruction.  I  told  some  of  my  friends  about 
this  time  that  I  was  not  willing  for  justice  to  take 
place,  and  as  such  I  was  not  a  just  man.  They  de- 
manded of  me  to  point  to  one  dishonest  act  of  my  life, 
as  it  was  something  that  no  other  man  had  ever  dis- 
covered. I  replied  that  so  far  as  my  dealings  with  my 
fellow  men  were  concerned,  that  I  had  always  tried  to 
act  on  the  principle  of  truth  and  justice;  but  being 
deceived  myself  by  the  devil  I  had  used  deception  to 
others,  and  as  such  I  now  found  that  I  was  unwilling 
to  submit  to  justice. 

I  moved  to  my  new  home  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
year  1860.  I  had  been  there  only  a  short  time  before 
I  became  so  desperate  in  my  words  and  actions,  which 
proved  an  index   to  the  state  of  njy  mind,  that  my 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  149 

uncle  came  down  and  took  me  home  with  him.  He 
had  concluded  (and  justly  too),  that  he  could  do  more 
with  me  than  any  other  person.  I  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  leaving  every  other  person  but  him  in  order 
to  get  away  to  myself  or  rather  to  be  alone.  My 
friends  had  objected  to  this,  and  called  it  running 
away  from  them,  but  I  had  other  'reasons  for  it  which 
I  had  not  made  public.  My  uncle  would  say :  "  He 
will  not  ruii  away  from  me;  I  will  take  him  home 
with  me."  He  knew  not  what  was  going  on  in  my 
mind,  for  it  was  a  dreadful  state  of  things  there,  and 
likely  to  be  worse.  The  truth  is,  after  giving  in  to  the 
temptation  to -take  my  own  life,  and  failing  to  do  it, 
and  repeating  the  effort  several  times,  I  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  God  would  not  suffer  me  to  sneak  out 
of  the  world  in  that  way.  I  must  therefore  find  out 
some  other  way.  My  mind  was  daily  occupied  in 
seeking  for  the  way  and  means  by  which  that  thing 
fnust  be  accomplished.  Now,  as  I  considered  the  devil 
to  be  my  master,  and  I  his  slave,  I  must  needs  look  to 
him  for  advice  in  this  difficult  matter.  I  am  almost 
ashamed  to  confess  it  but  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  I 
felt  that  I  was  given  up 'of  God  and  in  the  hands  of 
the  devil,  to  be  tormented  by  him  in  life  and  to  be 
punished  in  hell  by  him  throughout  eternity.  I  was 
thus  like  one  tied  hand  and  foot  and  unable  to  help 
myself.  I  told  a  dear  friend  one  day  that  I  would  like 
to  change  masters,  for  that  I  had  a  hard  one,  and 
found  myself  unable  to  throw  off  his  yoke.  Being 
thus,  under  the  influence  of  the  wicked  one,  he  sug- 
gested to  my  mind  that  the  way  in  which  God  had 


150  The  Life  and  Times  of 

designed  for  me  to  get  out  of  the  world  was  that  I 
should  murder  some  person,  and  then  the  laws  of  the 
laud  would  take  hold  of  me,  and  I  would  be  publicly 
executed,  and  in  this  way  God  would  vindicate  His 
honor  and  His  Word ;  for  that  His  Word  did  say  : 
"There  is  nothing  covered  that  shall  not  be  revealed, 
neither  hid  that  shall  not  be  known." 

I  did  not  approve  of  this  way  of  getting  out  of  the 
world.  There  was  not  a  person  on  earth  whom  I 
would  be  willing  to  kill  except  myself.  I  entertained 
no  hatred  or  malice  against  any  human  being.  But 
the  tempter  said  that  was  the  way,  and  that  stern  ne- 
cessity would  compel  me  to  do  it.  I  tried  to  throw 
away  all  such  thoughts,  knowing,  as  I  did,  that  they 
came  from  the  wicked  one.  But  in  spite  of  all  my  ef- 
forts these  thoughts  and  suggestions  would  return 
with  double  force,  until  I  believed  that  I  should  have 
to  do  the  very  thing  which  I  had  detested  and  revolted 
at  in  the  outset.  My  reason,  my  understanding  and 
my  better  judgment  taught  me^that  it  was  wrong;  but 
then  I  was  bound  to  do  it,  and  as  before,  the  sooner  the 
better. 

I  now  began  to  think  who  it  should  be  that  I  must 
kill,  and  strange  to  tell,  it  must  be  those  who  were 
nearest  to  me.  First  my  dear  and  harmless  wife — a 
part  of  myself — or  my  dear  innocent  children,  who  were 
parts  of  myself — bone  of  my  bone,  and  flesh  of  my 
flesh.  The  thoughts  of  taking  any  of  their  lives  would 
shock  me,  so  that  when  these  temptations  came  strongly 
upon  me,  I  would  leave  in    order  to   avoid  doing  mis- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  151 

chief.  I  dared  not  tell  this  to  ray  friends,  for  I  knew 
they  would  take  mo  to  the  Asylum.  I  did,  however, 
intimate  the  fact  to  my  wife  and  some  few  others  after 
I  could  keep  it  concealed  no  longer.  I  was  now  with 
my  uncle,  and  I  was  conscious  that  the  time  was  near 
at  hand  when  the  awful   crisis   would  come  to  a  head. 

About  this  time  I  began  to  think  that  Dempsey 
Johnson  was  the  man  who  was  to  be  murdered  by  me. 
The  thoughts  of  taking  his  life  seemed  more  than  I 
could  bear.  To  take  the  life  of  the  man  who  had 
always  befriended  me,  and  had  stood  up  to  me  like  a 
father  in  every  time  of  need,  and  had  now  imperiled 
his  own  life  to  save  me,  if  possible,  from  disgrace  and 
degradation.  How  could  I  bear  the  thought  of  killing 
so  good  a  man  as  my  uncle  Dempsey — vile  wretch  as 
I  conceived  myself  to  be?  The  deed  was  too  horrible 
for  me.  The  tempter  said  it  was  not  so  bad  as  what 
I  had  already  done,  for  that  I  had  crucified  the  Son  of 
God  afresh  and  put  Him  to  open  shame,  and  that  I 
need  not  be  thus  straining  at  a  gnat  and  swallowing  a 
camel;  for  Dempsey  Johnson  was  nothing  to  com- 
pare with  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  I  believed  what 
the  devil  said,  but  was  unwilling  to  commit  the  deed — 
the  bloody  deed  of  murdering  my  uncle.  If  I  had 
murdered  the  Greatest  of  All,  it  did  not  follow  that  I 
would  be  justifiable  in  murdering  the  least. 

But  as  these  thoughts  would  intrude  in  spite  of  all 
my  efforts  to  prevent  them,  the  impression  grew  upon 
my  mind  that  under  the  influence  of  the  strong  temp- 
tation of  the  devil  I  would  be  impelled  to  commit  the 
horrid  deed  of  murdering  my    uncle.     I   sometimes 


152  The  Life  and  Times  of 

thought  that  under  the  influence  of  those  endearing 
ties  which  bind  kindred  hearts  together  my  uncle  had 
sinned  and  become  a  partaker  of  my  dark  deeds,  and 
that  God  would  so  order  it  that  he  would  die  by  the 
hands  of  the  criminal  he  was  trying  to  save. 

In  meditating  on  this  dreadful  subject  my  imagina- 
tion was  drawn  out  on  the  awful  scene  which  would 
be  witnessed  after  the  perpetration  of  this  bloody  deed. 
I  could  see  my  dear  old  uncle  weltering  in  his  blood, 
which  was  shed  by  my  wicked  hands;  the  inquest 
held  over  his  body,  his  family  and  friends  weeping 
and  mourning  around  ;  myself  brought  forward  to 
answer  to  the  charge,  and  I  stood  guilty,  trembling 
and  speechless.  All  this  and  much  more  would  pass 
before  the  eye  of  the  mind  in  the  awful  picture  which 
my  imagination  drew  of  so  great  a  crime.  1  there- 
fore made  up  my  mind  to  do  what  I  had  promised 
never  to  do,  which  was  to  run  away  from   my  uncle. 

I  left  him,  and  went  off  and  hid  myself.  My  uncle 
soon  set  out  to  look  for  me ;  when  he  found  me  he 
said  :  "  I  thought  you  never  would  run  away  from  me. 
I  do  not  want  you  to  do  so  any  more.  What  makes 
you  do  so  anyhow?"  I  told  him  that  I  felt  it  was 
best;  but  he  insisted  that  I  should  never  do  so  any 
more,  and  gently  reproved  me. 

I  returned  with  him  to  the  house,  but  it  was  not 
long  before  I  left  him  again,  and  he  looked  me  up 
again.  I  know  not  how  often  I  pursued  the  same 
course,  and  he  the  same  course  in  looking  me  up. 

I  recollect  on  one  occasion,  when  I  went  off  early  in 
the  morning,  it  was  some  time  before  he  found  me.     I 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  153 

was  lying  down  on  the  ground ;  be  came  to  me  and 
raised  me  up,  the  turbulent  passion  was  still  on  me, 
and  I  insisted  that  be  should  let  me  alone;  but  be 
took  me  by  the  arm  and  bade  me  arise  and  go  with 
him  to  the  house.  I  then  told  him  that  he  had  better 
let  me  alone,  and  drew  back  from  him,  as  though  I 
would  break  his  hold  on  me.  He  reproved  me,  and 
said  :  *'  Come  on,  and  let  us  go  to  the  house."  I  again 
said  :  "  Uncle  Dempsey,  you  had  better  let  me  alone." 
He  replied  :  "  I  am  not  afraid  of  you."  I  said  :  "  You 
had  better  be."  He  contended  that  he  was  not,  and  I 
thought  and  contended  that  he  had  better  be.  He 
urged  me  to  go,  and  I  resisted,  until  he  pulled  me  on 
a  short  distance,  when  I  felt  such  a  strong  spirit  of  re- 
sistance that  I  seized  hold  of  him  and  shook  him  with 
all  my  might,  saying  :  "  You  had  better  let  me  alone." 
My  uncle  stormed  out  at  me  saying:  "  What  do  you 
mean  ?  You  had  better  behave  yourself,  or  I  will 
make  my  servants  tie  you,  and  we  will  take  you  to 
to  the  asylum." 

After  a  little  parley  we  went  into  the  house.  He 
seated  me  beside  the  fire  and  went  out  a  few  minutes, 
and  then  returned.  He  then  took  his  seat  close  be- 
side me,  and  asked  me  what  I  meant  by  laying  hold 
of  him,  and  shaking  him  as  I  did  out  yonder.  I  told 
him  that  I  meant  what  I  said — he  had  better  let  me 
alone.  He  said  ;  "  You  had  no  idea  of  hurting  me, 
did  you  ?"  I  told  him  that  if  I  had  had  a  weapon  I 
thought  I  should  have  used  it.  He  replied  :  "  No  you 
would  not."  I  said  I  reckon  I  should.  He  then 
opened  his  shirt  collar  and  held  his  head  and  neck 


154  The  Life  and  Times  of 

close  to  me,  and  asked  me  if  I  had  a  razor  in  my  hand 
if  I  would  use  it  on  him.  I  viewed  this  conduct  of 
my  uncle  as  a  dare,  and  it  roused  up  my  turbulent 
feelings  in  an  instant.  I  replied  to  him:  "Yes,  I 
should  cut  your  throat."  He  said  I  would  not,  but  I 
contended  that  I  would,  till  he  changed  his  manner 
and  tone  of  voice.  He  drew  back  from  me  and  said, 
in  a  very  pitiful  tone  of  voice :  "  Is  it  not  monstrous 
that  you  will  do  so — want  to  kill  your  old  uncle,  who 
has  done  so  much  for  you— more  than  anybody  else, 
except  your  father  and  mother.  Johnson,  did  I  ever 
think  you  would  come  to  this?  What  do  you  want  to 
kill  me  for — what  have  I  done?" 

By  this  time  kind  words  and  gentle  means  had  done 
the  work  for  me.  I  burst  into  cries  and  tears  and 
said  :  "  No,  uncle  Dempsey,  I  won't  do  it ;  I  won't  do 
it."  Ten  minutes  before  I  thought  and  said  I  would, 
but  now  I  would  not  for  the  world. 

In  thinking  and  reflecting  on  this  particular  period 
of  my  life  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  was 
under  the  influence  of  the  wicked  one,  and  at  times 
he  came  on  me  with  more  force  than  usual ;  and 
whether  he  took  seven  other  spirits  with  him  or  not, 
he  put  forth  all  the  power  that  he  had  to  induce  me 
to  act  out  the  temptation  presented.  These  aberrations 
of  mind  caused  me  to  fear  in  my  better  moments  of 
reflection  that  I  should  do  mischief  if  I  continued  in 
company  while  these  were  upon  me.  I  therefore  gen- 
erally left  when  I  felt  them  come  on,  if  not  prevented. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  155 


y 


/       CHAPTER  XII 

These  were  the  only  times  that  I  ever  thought  of 
doing  immediate  mischief,  and  the  only  times  that  I 
now  consider  that  I  was  dangerous  to  any  person.  No 
person  could  know  when  these  aberrations  were  com- 
ing on,  only  by  my  movements.  I  became  restless, 
uneasy,  and  gave  evident  signs  that  I  wished  to  leave. 
My  friends  would  frequently  prevent  me,  by  following 
me  wherever  I  went,  and  some  times  watched  me  to 
see  if  I  gave  any  signs  of  taking  my  own  life. 

It  was  also  about  this  time  that  ray  unc'e  proposed 
to  me  to  go  with  him  to  meeting  at  Olive's  Chapel.  I 
did  not  wish  to  go,  for  I  had  been  there  once  since  I 
had  quit  preaching,  and  felt  that  it  did  me  more  harm 
than  good  ;  but  as  my  uncle  desired  me  to  go,  and 
talked  kindly  to  me  on  the  subject,  I  consented  to  go, 
and  would  have  done  so  if  I  had  known  it  would  cost 
me  my  life.  Indeed,  I  had  an  idea  that  my  friends 
would  meet  there  on  that  day  to  see  the  last  of  me,  for 
I  believed  they  intended  to  do  something  with  me,  and 
it  mattered  little  what  to  me. 

We  went  to  the  meeting.  No  condemned  criminal 
ever  felt  or  looked  worse  than  I  did.  I  was  urged  to 
go  into  the  house  and  take  a  seat  with  the  old  breth- 
ren, and  talk  with  them.  I  did  go  into  the  house  after 
awhile,  being  strenuously  urged  to  do  so  by  my  uncle. 
But  after  getting  in  there  I  repented  that  I  went.  My 
uncle  insisted  that  my  old  brethren  should  ask  me 
questions,  and  I  felt  as  mean  as  Judas  could  have  felt 


156  The  Life  and  Times  of 

after  agreeing  to  sell  his  Lord  and  master  for  thirty 
pieces  of  silver.  I  could  hardly  hold  up  my  head  ; 
my  countenance  had  fallen  lower  than  ever;  des- 
pair was  depicted  in  my  countenance.  The  pains 
of  hell  gat  hold  on  me,  and  I  felt  that  rocks  and 
mountains  would  be  welcome  to  fall  on  me  if  they 
could  but  hide  me  from  the  face  of  God  and  man  for- 
ever. I  w^as  displeased  with  my  uncle  for  bringing 
me  there  to  be  held  up  to  the  public  gaze  as  an  apos- 
tate to  the  church  and  a  traitor  to  his  God. 

My  uncle  now  told  me  that  he  had  had  his  way 
about  the  course  which  I  must  pursue,  and  I  now 
might  have  my  own  way.  I  felt  like  a  man  who  had 
been  led  to  the  jumping  off  place  and  then  told  to  go 
which  way  he  pleased,  but  on  looking  around  on  all 
sides  of  the  place  where  he  stood,  there  yawned  the 
same  deep  and  dark  abyss.  I  knew  not  what  to  say 
or  where  to  go.  My  uncle  urged  me  to  make  up  my 
mind  quickly,  as  I  should  have  my  own  way.  He  said 
I  might  go  east,  west,  north  or  south,  just  v/hich  I 
liked.  I  considered  at  first  that  he  was  trifling  with 
me,  but  as  he  insisted  that  I  should  make  up  my  mind 
quick  I  told  him  I  would  choose  to  go  to  my  brother- 
in-law's,  Mark  Barker's.  So'my  uncle  took  me  there 
in  his  buggy,  and  after  staying  there  awhile  he  left 
and  went  home.  My  brother  Calvin  was  there  that 
night,  I  think. 

My  uncle  left  after  awhile  saying  he  would  come 
back  to  see  me  the  next  night.  I  spent  a  very  un- 
pleasant night.  I  felt  like  everybody  was  getting 
tired  of  me,  even  my  own  brothers  and  sisters.  I  was 
so  mean  in  my  own  estimation  that  I  could  not  blame 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  "  157 

them  for  anything  but  their  kindness  towards  me.  I 
told  some  of  them  to  let  me  go  to  the  dogs,  where  I 
belonged,  and  yet  they  would  continue  to  lavish  their 
kindness  upon  me.  I  told  them  that  they  were  thus 
heaping  coals  of  fire  upon  my  head.  They  would  re- 
ply that  they  were  doing  the  best  they  knew  how,  and 
only  regretted  that  they  could  do  no  more.  I  was 
aware  of  my  inability  to  render  myself  agreeable,  for 
I  had  tried  in  vain  to  do  so  till  my  courage  failed.  I 
frequently  thought  if  I  could  hide  myself  in  some 
cave  or  den  in  the  earth,  where  no  human  being  could 
ever  find  me,  I  would  gladly  do  so.  But  that  was  im- 
possible. 

In  some  of  my  aberrations  of  mind  about  this  time 
I  became  almost  ungovernable.  Indeed,  it  seemed  to 
me  that  I  felt  some  of  the  torments  of  the  damned  in 
my  flesh  and  bones  as  well  as  in'  my  mind.  I  would 
wring  my  hands,  gnash  my  teeth,  writhe  and  twist, 
and  turn  in  various  ways.  Sometimes  I  would  jump 
and  skip,  and  rub  my  feet  and  legs  from  the  anguish 
and  pain  of  mind  which  I  felt,  and  which  seemed  to 
penetrate  my  whole  system.  It  would  generally  wear 
off  in  a  short  time,  or  gradually  subside,  so  that  I 
would  be  able  to  compose  myself,  so  far  as  these  tor- 
tures of  body  were  concerned. 

My  uncle,  according  to  promise,  came  back  the  next 
night  to  see  me,,  and  A.  C.  Richardson  also  came. 
These  were  my  two  strong  friends,  who  took  such  a 
lively  interest  in  my  welfare.  They  had  labored  with 
me  long  and  faithfully.  They  had  spared  no  pains  OJ 
expense  in  trying  to  set  me  right.     They  had  been 


158  The  Life  and  Times  of 

with  me  both  by  day  and  by  night.  They  had  given 
me  line  upon  line  and  precept  upon  precept.  All  their 
efforts  seemed  likely  to  avail  nothing.  They  must 
try  some  new  experiment.  What  should  be  the  next 
step?  After  some  consultation  they  resolved,  to  try 
coercion — that  is,  force  me.  to  do  what  I  objected  to. 
I  had  told  them  that  I  did  not  wish  to  leave  my  broth- 
er-in-law, Barker.  They  said  I  should  go  home  to  see 
my  wife  and  children.  I  objected  to  going  home  at 
that  time,  stating  as  my  reason  that  I  should  kill  my 
wife.  They  contended  that  I  would  not,  and  said  I 
should  go  to  see  them,  and  that  they  would  show  me 
I  would  not  do  as  I  had  said. 

They  probably  thought  that  I  was  playing  off,  but 
they  little  knew  what  was  going  on  in  my  mind.  They 
took  me  out  of  the  house,  one  on  each  side,  and  started 
with  me  to  see  my  wife  and  children.  I  plead  hard 
with  them  not  to  carry  me  there  that  night,  as  I  felt 
conscious  that  I  should  do  mischief  They  would  not 
listen  to  me,  but  reproved  me  sharply,  and  spoke  to  me 
roughly.  The}'  took  me  on  my  own  grounds;  spoke 
freely  of  my  meanness ;  and  how  smart  I  had  been  in 
deceiving  the  people.  T  api  confident  that  A.  C.  Rich- 
ardson preached  that  night  as  he  will  never  preach 
again.  He  became  truly  eloquent,  and  spoke  as  if  his 
lips  had  been  touched  with  a  live  coal  from  off  God's 
holy  altar.  I  was  of  the  opinion  then  that  he  was  moved 
by  some  irresistable  influence.  I  have  talked  with 
him  since  about  that  matter,  and  his  reply  to  me  was, 
he  should  never  be  able  to  tell  his  feelings  on  that  oc- 
casion. My  uncle  was  as  rigid  in  what  he  said  as  A. 
C.  Richardson,  but  did  not  speak  so  loud. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  159 

They  carried  me  about  half  the  distance,  when  I  re- 
newed my  request  that  they  should  carry  rae  no  farther. 
I  plead  hard  for  them  to  let  me  go,  but  if  they  had 
loosed  their  hold  on  me  I  should  have  given  them  one 
race  through  the  woods  that  night.  I  would  pull 
backwards,  but  they  would  urge  me  on,  and  some- 
times nearly  drag  me. 

All  this  tended  to  arouse  my  vile  passions,  and  if  I 
had  had  a  weapon  in  my  hand,  I  should  have  used  it 
on  them.  I  have  no  doubt  now  that  they  were  actu- 
ated from  the  purest  of  motives.  They  were  doing  the 
best  they  knew ;  but  I  doubt  very  much  whether  they 
pursued  the  wiser  course  with  me  on  that  occasion. 

This  was  the  only  time  that  my  friends  tried  arbi- 
trary power  with  me.  I  will  now  tell  how  it  operated 
in  my  case.  I  was  carried  home  to  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren with  one  on  each  side  of  me.  When  we  got  there 
they  forced  me  into  the  house,  took  me  into  the  room 
where  my  wife  was  sitting,  placed  a  chair  close  by  h^ 
side,  and  ordered  me  to  sit  down,  and  my  uncle  said 
to  me:  "Now  kill  your  wife  if  you  want  to."  My 
hands  were  palsied,  but  I  made  an  effort  to  seize  her 
by  the  throat,  and  felt  that  if  I  had  had  a  deadly  weapon 
I  should  have  used  it.  My  uncle  seized  my  arm  and 
drew  my  hand  away.  My  poor  wife  commenced  talk-, 
ing  to  me  in  the  most  loving*and  afiPectionate  manner, 
and  I  burst  out  crying,  and  rose  up  hastily  and  ran  to 
the  bed  and  fell  on  my  face.  Here  I  lay,  and  would 
not  say  a  word  to  any  one  for  sometime.  My  uncle 
tried  hard  to  get  me  to  speak  to  him,  but  all  in  vain, 
I  would  not  so  much  as  answer  a  question. 


160  The  Life  and  Times  of 

After  staying  a  while  my  two  friends  who  had 
forced  rae  to  come  there  left.  I  had  never  met  my 
dear  companion  in  such  a  plight  before,  and  I  thank 
my  God  that  I  never  have  since.  I  know  not  whether 
this  circumstance  gave  rise  to  my  strong  temptations 
to  swear  and  blaspheme  or  not,  but  I  do  know  that  I 
suffered  a  great  deal  about  this  time  from  the  dread- 
ful temptations  to  use  profane  language.  I  never  did 
use  profanity  in  all  my  youthful  days  ;  I  have  no 
recollection  that  I  ever  swore  an  oath,  except  on  one 
occasion,  when  I  became  very  angry,  and  that  was  be- 
fore I  was  grown  up  to  manhood.  But  now  it  appeared 
to  me  that  I  should  swear  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  to 
avoid  it.  These  horrid  oaths  were  constantly  uprising 
in  my  mind,  and  I  was  striving  against  them  with 
might  and  main,  but  they  were  constantly  multiply- 
ing and  increasing  in  strength  till  I  was  so  full  of  them 
that  it  seemed  to  me  I  must  give  vent  to  them  or  burst 
asunder. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  I  went  a  part  of  one  day 
with  my  mouth  open,  or  my  tongue  gripped  in  my 
teeth  to  prevent  swearing.  I  told  my  wife,  my  uncle, 
and  others  that  I  should  swear,and  when  I  did  burst  forth, 
they  had  never  heard  the  like  before.  These  tempta- 
tions to  swear  followed  me  up  for  a  long  time.  Some- 
times they  would  come  i^pon  me  with  great  force,  so 
much  so  that  I  felt  confident  that  I  could. not  hold  in 
much  longer.  I  would  frequently  tell  my  wife  that 
she  need  not  be  alarmed  to  hear  it  at  any  time,  for  it 
would  certainly  have  to  come. 

I  will  here  remark  that  I  had  strong  temptations  to 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  161 

almost  every  known  sin.  I  was  tormented  by  them 
day  and  night.  To  some  of  these  temptations  I  par- 
tially yielded,  or  rather,  as  it  appears  to  me,  I  was 
forced  to  yield.  It  was  in  this,  as  it  was  in  other 
things,  I  saw  the  right  and  approved  it  too;  I  hated 
the  wrong,  and  yet  the  wrong  would  I  do.  I  recollect 
on  one  occasion  I  told  my  wife  I  should  swear  that 
day.  She  said  :  "  I  have  heard  you  say  so  before,  and 
you  have  not  done  it,  and  I  shall  never  believe  it  till 
I  hear  it."  I  told  her  that  I  had  hitherto  succeeded 
in  curbing  it,  but  the  temptation  was  becoming  too 
strong  for  me,  and  that  I  was  getting  so  full  of  pro- 
fanity it  would  be  bound  to  come.  She  then  asked 
me  if  I  thought  it  would  do  me  any  good  to  curse.  I 
replied,  "  no,  it  will  only  make  bad  wx)rse;  but  I  shall 
be  bound  to  let  it  come,  as  I  am  getting  so  full  I  shall 
burst."  She-  again  replied  that  she  would  never  be- 
lieve I  could  swear  till  she  heard  it.  I  told  her  she 
would  hear  it  before  night,  to  which  she  replied  :  "I 
do  not  believe  you  could  swear  if  you  were  to  try."  .  I 
replied,  "  yes  I  can,"  and  she  said, "  let  me  hear  you."  I 
then  told  her  that  I  was  a  damned  old  sinner.  She 
reproved  me  and  said  if  I  commenced  swearing  she 
would  not  live  with  me.  But  my  wounded  conscience 
reproved  me  more  sharply  than  she  did ;  for  notwith- 
standing I  had  spoken  what  I  believed  to  be  the  truth, 
I  had  used  a  bad  word  to  express  it. 

I  am  not  certain  that  I  ever  tried  to  swear  after  that 
time,  though  the  temptation  followed  me  up  for  a  long 
time. 

Involuntary  thoughts  tormented  me  daily,  so  that 


162  The  Life  and  Times  of 

when  my  friends  would  ask  me  what  I  was  studying 
or  thinking  about,  I  would  reply  to  them  by  saying  I 
was  studying  or  thinking  of  meanness.  They  would 
tell  me  to  quit  it,  and  study  something  else;  but  they 
had  just  as  well  have  told  the  birds  not  to  fly  over  their 
heads. 

This  was  about  the  first  of  January,  1861.  I  was  at 
horiie  but  little  of  the  time.  My  uncle  would  come  to  see 
me  and  get  me  off  home  with  him,  or  to  my  brother's  or 
my  mother's.  Their  motto  was  to  keep  me  going  from 
place  to  place.  I  now  think  it  was  as  good  a  plan  as  they 
could  have  adopted,  provided  they  could  get  me  to  go 
without  force.  This  they  could  generally  do  by  kind 
words  and  persuasive  arguments.  I  recollect  that  my 
sister-in-law,  (brother  Hollaway's  wife)  used  to_ come 
over  very  often  when  I  ^as  at  home,  and  she  almost 
invariably  brought  me  to  terms  by  her  kind,  gentle 
manner  in  talking  with  me.  I  would  sometimes  ob- 
ject strenuously  in  the  outset,  but  she  had  a  peculiar 
tact  in  overcoming  me  with  kindness.  As  I  have  said 
before,  I  never  could  stand  before  kind  words  and 
gentle  means.  I  always  caved  in  or  gave  way  under 
that  kind  of  treatment. 

I  must  now  come  to  the  most  mysterious  and  criti- 
cal time  of  this  dark  period  in  my  history.  I  have 
had  occasion  to  speak  of  instances  in  which  imagina- 
tion had  something  to  do  in  my  experience  while  on  the 
dark  and  dreary  road  of  time.  I  shall  be  under  the 
necessity  of  saying  more  on  that  subject  hereafter. 
Indeed,  it  will  be  somewhat  difficult  in  some  few  in- 
stances to  determine  which  was  real  and  which  was 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  163 

imaginary,  as  the  one  seems  to  be  blended  in  the  other. 
I  will,  however,  try  to  be  as  particular  in  drawing  the 
distinction  between  what  was  real  and  what  was  im- 
aginary as  possible,  believing,  as  I  do,  that  upon  these 
two  hinges  the  whole  matter  turns.  I  will  in  the  first 
place  remark, thatlbelievel  was  theservantofthedevil, 
for  "  to  whom  ye  yield  your  members  servants  to  obey, 
his  servants  ye  are."  I  considered  that  when  I  yielded 
to  the  temptation  of  the  devil  to  commit  suicide  I  be- 
came his  servant,  and  was  invested  with  the  spirit  of 
murder.  In  this  consideration  I  had  acted  voluntary. 
But  when  I  failed  to  accomplish  what  I  had  vol- 
untarily agreed  to  do,  I  would  gladly  have  been  di- 
vested of  that  evil  spirit.  I  had  no  desire  to  take  the 
life  of  any  other  person,  and  as  such  I  desired  the 
spirit  of  murder  to  depart  from  me.  But  he  would 
not  leave,  neither  was  I  able  to  cast  him  out;  he  must 
remain  there  to  torment  me  for  a  season.  This  mur- 
derous spirit  never  got  my  voluntary  consent  to  take 
the  life  of  any  one  of  my  fellow  beings,  but  he  did  a 
great  deal  to  lead  me  in  that  direction.  As  I  before 
stated,  this  devil  or  wicked  spirit  suggested  to  my 
mind  that  by  taking  the  life  of  another  person  was 
the  way  for  ire  to  get  out  of  the  werld,  and  that  stern 
necessity  -would  require  me  to  go  out  that  way,  and 
the  sooner  the  better.  Now,  I  did  not  give  in  to  this, 
yet  I  felt  that  I  would  have  to  do  so,  for  I  believed 
that  the  master  was  over  the  servant.  This  torment- 
ing spirit  continued  his  temptations,  and  led  me  into 
many  difficulties;  and  if  I  had  been  given  up  of  God, 
as  I  believed  I  was,  this  demon  of  hell   would   have 


164  The  Life  and  Times  of 

led  me  to  endless  ruin.  I  found  myself  no  match  for 
bim.  And  if  our  God  does  not  prevent,  the  devil  will 
get  us  all. 

My  uncle  came  down  to  my  house  and  took  me  home 
with  him  to^stay  a  few  days,  seeing,  as  I  suppose,  that 
I  was  more  restless  and  uneasy  than  usual.  He  gen- 
erally stayed  with  me  in  the  day  time,  and  lay  with 
me  at  night.  He  had  been  broken  of  his  rest  and 
greatly  troubled  in  mind  about  me,  and  I  saw  very 
clearly  that  his  health  was  failing,  and  his  spirit  was 
flagging.  I  considered  myself  the  cause  of  all  that 
was  wrong  about  him,  and  I  believed,  if  he  died  I 
would  be  the  cause  of  his  death.  These  things  made 
me  feel  awful,  but  it  was  unavoidable  by  me.  I  wished 
I  were  dead.  "Oh!  that  I  had  died  before  mine  eyes 
beheld  the  light."  But  I  must  drag  along  this  wretched 
sinful  life.  My  uncle  sent  for  his  son  to  come  and 
stay  with  me  that  night,  in  order  that  he  might  take 
some  rest.  I  was  in  a  small  room  with  a  bed  and  a 
warm  fire;  my  mind  got  into  a  train  of  thought,  such 
as  I  never  experienced  before  or  since.  I  was  meditat- 
ing on  my  fearful  doom  ;  pouring  over  the  miserable 
state  of  my  unhappy  life,  when  the  tempter  interro- 
gated me  as  follows:  "What  would  you  be  willing  to 
do  in  order  to  get  out  of  this  dreadful  state?"  My 
answer  was:  "I  am  willing  to  do  anything."  Now 
said  the  tempter:  "If  you  knew  that  killing  a  man 
would  relieve  you,  would  you  do  that?"  I  hesitated, 
but  my  mind  voluntarily  said,  "Yes."  Then  said  the 
tempter:  "Suppose  it  would  not  take  you  out  of  it, 
but  by  taking  the  life  of  another  you  would  be  re- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  165 

lieved,  would  you  do  that?"  I  discovered  that  my 
mind  was  going  irresistibly  in  a  wrong  course,  and 
endeavored  to  stop  it  by  striking  my  head  with  my 
fist  or  tearing  out  locks  of  my  hair  ;  but  all  to  no  pur- 
pose, as  it  rushed  on  like  a  stream  of  water  over  a 
precipice.  I  answered  in  ray  mind  as  before.  And 
then  the  question  was  :  "  How  many  would  you  kill  in 
order  to  be  delivered?"  My  mind  said  "  Everybody." 
"  But  suppose  you  were  not  delivered  then,  what  would 
you  do  next?"  My  mind  said  :  ''  I  would  destroy  the 
devil  and  hell,  if  I  had  the  pov/er."  "And  suppose 
you  were  still  as  miserable  as  ever,  and  had  the  power, 
what  would  you  do  next?"  My  mind  answered:  "I 
would  blot  out  heaven."  "  And  what  next?"  I  knew 
what  was  coming.  I  scringed  at  the  very  thought; 
but  in  spite  of  all  my  powers  to  prevent,  my  mind  said  : 
*'  I  would  pluck  God  from  His  throne."  I  had  now 
got  to  the  end  of  my  row  ;  I  had  no  where  else  to  go. 
I  had  annihilated  the  world  ;  destroyed  heaven  and 
hell ;  plucked  God  from  His  throne.  The  thought  of 
what  I  had  done  threw  me  into  convulsions.  I  could 
not  lie,  sit,  or  stand  ;  but  was  hopping  and  skipping 
over  the  room  wringing  my  hands  and  rubbing  my 
feet.  I  would  throw  myself  on  the  bed  and  in  a  few 
minutes  rise  up  and  pace  the  floor;  sit  down  and  rise- 
instantly  from  my  seat,  and  rub  and  wring  my  hands. 
My  cousin,  who  was  in  the  room  with  me,  would  ask 
me  what  made  me  do  so,  and  would  say  I  wish  you 
would  quit  doing  so.  I  told  him  that  my  mental  pain 
was  so  great  that  I  could  not  do  otherwise.     I  con- 


166  The  Life  and  Times  of 

tinued  in  this  condition   naore  or  less  for  some  time  ; 
but  at  intervals  I  was  more  composed. 

An  hour  or  two  after  dark  there'  came  two  men  to 
my  uncle's.  They  came  in  the  hall  room  adjoining 
the  room  in  which  I  was.  They  spoke  to  my  uncle, 
and  after  the  usual  words  of  salutation  they  asked  my 
uncle  where  I  was.  He  told  them  that  I  was  in  the 
room,  and  that  his  son  Thomas  was  with  me.  I  knew 
the  men  by  their  voice ;  one  of  them  was  a  minister 
of  the  Gospel  and  the  other  was  a  Deacon  of  the 
church.  I  was  filled  with  anxiety  to  hear  what  they 
would  have  to  say  about  me.  There  was  a  window  in 
the  wall  between  the  room  where  they  were  and  the 
room  where  I  was.  The  window  was  shaded  with 
curtains,  but  I  was  in  six  or  eight  feet  of  them.  I  was 
so  anxious  to  hear  that  I  became  an  attentive  listener; 
for  I  verily  believed  that  the  hand  of  Providence  was 
now  at  work  against  me,  and  that  those  two  men  had 
come  under  the  direction  of  Providence  to  detect  in  me 
what  I  conceived  to  be  my  meanness.  They  soon 
asked  my  uncle  how  I  was  getting  along;  he  replied 
by  telling  them  that  I  was  in  one  of  my  worst  ways 
that  night.  They  said  we  have  come  over  to  see  him, 
and  what  do  you  think  of  our  going  in  to  talk  with  him. 
My  uncle  said  ihat  he  thought  it  would  be  inadvisable 
for  them  to  go  in  that  evening,  as  I  was  averse  to  com- 
pany. They  said  we  do  not  wish  to  intrude  or  do  any- 
thing which  would  make  the  case  worse,  but  some- 
thing must  be  done.  My  uncle  asked  what  more  coul 
be  done  than  what  was  already  being  done.    To  which 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  167 

they  replied,  we  do  not  know ;  but  the  thing  has  gone 
on  until  something  more  is  obliged  to  be  done. 

What  I  have  stated  above  did  occur,  as  I  have  since 
inquired  of  my  uncle  concerning  the  truth  of  this 
matter.  And  now  what  follows  on  this  particular 
point,  I  suppose,  was  imagination,  though  it  appears 
to  me  as  real  as  the  other.  But  as  I  have  learned 
from  good  authority  the  things  which  I  am  now  about 
to  write  did  not  occur,  I  shall  put  them  down  as  the 
result  of  imagination  :  The  minister,  of  whom  I  spoke, 
continued  his  conversation  with  my  uncle.  He  said 
something  must  be  done,  or  some  steps  taken  with  me, 
for  that  the  thing  was  published  in  the  papers.  My 
uncle  asked,  published  where.  He  replied  in  the 
Biblical  Recordei'  and  the  Sinrii  of  the  Age.  My  uncle 
expressed  his  astonishment,  and  said  certainly  it  was 
a  mistake.  No,  said  the  minister,  I  have  the  paper  in 
my  pocket,  and  he  proposed  to  read  it,  if  my  uncle  de- 
sired it.  My  uncle  said  he  would  like  to  hear  it;  upon 
which  the  minister  drew  the  paper  from  his  pocket, 
and  I  heard  it  rattle,  apparently,  as  plainly  as  ever  I 
heard  a  paper  rattle,  when  thus  dravt^n  out  and  opened. 
He  then  commenced  reading  in  a  low  tone  of  voice, 
though  I  could  distinctly  hear  the  most  of  what  he 
read.  It  was  lengthy,  embracing  a  period  of  twenty 
years,  and  giving  a  brief  historical  sketch  of  my  life; 
and  I  considered  it  a  very  truthful  sketch,  with  a  very 
few  exceptions.  The  writer  said  that  I  had  enjoyed,  or 
rather  possessed  the  means  of  success  in  the  ministry; 
that  I  had  a  large  family  connection  and  a  large  circle 
of  personal  friends,  and  that  when  I  married  I  had 


168  The  Life  and  Times  op 

selected  a  woman  in  that  respect  like  myself;  that  my 
labors  had  been  almost  exclusively  confined  within 
the  circle  of  those  relatives  and  friends  ;  that  they  had 
stood  as  safeguards  and  as  a  wall  of  defence  around, 
me,  and  that  I  had  always  managed  in  some  way  to 
retain  their  confidence  ;  that  my  relatives  and  friends 
had  always  been  blind  or  deaf  to  my  failings  and  im- 
perfections, but  that  others,  who  had  not  been  so 
closely  and  intimately  connected  with  me,  had  seen 
and  believed  that  I  was  not  what  I  pretended  to  be, 
and  that  sooner  or  later  the  judgments  of  heaven  would 
overtake  me.  The  writer  also  spoke  of  my  becoming 
restless  and  dissatisfied  with  my  home  and  country, 
and  of  my  having  made  some  arrangemejits  to  move 
to  the  far  west;  but  that  Providence  had  interfered, 
and  kept  me  from  going  to  a  distant  land  to  im- 
pose on  an  innocent  people  there  as  I  had  done  here. 
The  writer  went  on  to  say  that  I  had  imposed  on 
my  best  friends;  that  I  had  inveigled  my  brothers, 
and  especially  my  brother  Calvin  Olive,  who,  by  the 
way,  unlike  myself,  was  a  very  clever  fellow  ;  that  I 
had  neglected  my  wife  and  children,  but  by  same  art 
or  ingenuity  peculiar  to  myself  I  had  made  them  be- 
lieve that  I  was  a  good  man,  and  that  they  were  still 
hanging  on  to  me,  as  was  also  my  dear  old  uncle,  who 
then  had  me  under  his  care  ;  that  it  was  in  consider- 
ation of  my  family  and  friends  that  others  had  borne 
with  me  as  long  as  they  had  ;  but  that  they  had  borne 
with  me  until  forbearance  ceased  to  be  a  virtue,  and 
that  the  good  of  the  cause  required  that  truth  and 
justice  should  take  place;  that  I  was  therefore  pub- 
lished to  the  world  as  an  imposter. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  169 

The  part  to  which  I  objected  was  that  the  writer 
wished  to  make  the  iinpression  that  I  had  done  all 
that  I  ever  did  from  hypocritical  motives.  I  believed 
it  was  deception— that  is,  I  was  honest  and  sincere  in 
all  that  I  had  done,  but  had  acted  under  Satan's  de- 
lusion. Upon  the  whole,  I  was  not  much,  if  any,  bet- 
ter than  the  downright  hypocrite,  fori  was  the  de- 
ceived and  the  deceiver  of  others. 

This  ends  the  present  imagination.  I  believed  it  to 
be  r.'al,  and  continued  to  believe  it  for  years,  as  noth- 
ing appeared  plainer  to  me.  And  it  had  the  same 
effect  on  my  mind  as  if  it  had  been  true ;  for  I  believed 
it  to  be  a  reality,  and  according  to  my  faith  so  was  it 
unto  me.  The  foregoing  is  one  of  the  plainest  cases 
of  the  powers  of  imagination  working  on  the  fancy 
that  I  have  ever  experienced.  I  believed  it  to  be  true, 
and  felt  so  miserable  about  it  that  I  was  not  disposed 
to  ask  any  questions  in  regard  to  the  matter.  And  at 
that  time  I  should  not  have  believed  otherwise  even 
if  the  preacher  himself  had  told  me  that  I  was  mis- 
taken ;  for  at  this  period  of  my  life  I  believed  that 
my  best  friends  would  speak  ironically  to  me. 

I  will  now  tell  you  how  this  thing  affected  me,  and 
the  false  conclusions  to  which  it  led  me.  I  was  so 
miserable  that  I  would  willingly  have  ended  my  life 
if  possible,  but  I  had  no  weapon.  I  did,  however,  find 
a  pound  weight  which  I  thought  of  using  in  trying  to 
break  my  head  and  burst  out  my  brains,  but  being 
fearful  that  I  should  make  a  failure,  and  also  knowing 
that  my  cousin  was  with  me  in  the  room,  I  laid  down 
the  weight  and  took  it  up  no  more.  That  which 
8 


170  The  Life  and  Times  of 

grieved  me  most  was  that  I  had  brought  such  a  re- 
proach upon  the  cause  of  religion,  and  such  a  dis- 
grace upon  my  family  and  friends.  I  wished  that  I 
had  succetded  in  taking  m3^  life  in  the  outset.  It  ap- 
peared to  me  that  it  would  have  been  better  for  all 
concerned. 

I  slept  but  little  that  niglit;  next  morning  I  was 
no  better.  My  teeth  chattered  ;  my  eyes  seemed  to 
ache  within  their  sockets.  They  looked  red  and  fiery. 
My  uncle  has  frequently  spoken  to  me  and  others 
of  my  dreadful  appearance  that  morning.  I  walked 
the  floor  exclaiming:  ''Ruined,  ruined,  ruined!  I 
have  ruined  everything."  My  friends  came  in  to  see  me, 
but  could  give  no  relief.  I  told  some  of  my  best  friends 
that  they  had  better  not  hang  on  to  me  any  longer,  but 
let  me  go  to  the  dogs,  where  I  belonged,  for  I  felt  that 
I  was  an  outcast  from  God  and   man. 

It  w^as  about  this  time  that  I  concluded  to  try  to 
perish  myself  to  death.  I  believed  that  every  act  of 
kindness  shown  me  by  my  friends  was  like  heaping 
coals  of  fire  on  my  head. 

I  was  in  bed  one  morning  when  my  uncle,  as  usual, 
came  to  rouse  me  up  for  breakfast.  I  told  him  I  did  not 
wish  to  eat.  He  insisted  that  I  must  eat.  I  told  him 
it  was  a  sin  for  me  to  eat,  and  that  I  did  not  wish  to 
eat  any  more.  He  continued  his  arguments  for  some 
time,  but  without  gaining  my  consent  to  eat.  He  then 
sent  his  wife  to  me.  She  was  a  very  pious  woman, 
and  she  began  pleading  with  me  to  go  and  eat  break- 
fast with  her.  I  replied  to  her  as  I  had  to  my  uncle, 
that  it  was  a  sin   for   me  to  eat,  and  that  if  she  in- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  171 

sisted  on  my  eating  she  would  be  a  partaker  of  my 
sins.  She  then  told  me  if  I  would  not  eat  she  would 
not,  saying,  ''  if  you  are  a  wicked  man,  as  you  contend 
you  are,  I  will  show  you  that  I  can  fast  as  long  as  you 
can,"  I  asked  her  if  she  wished  to  heap  coals  of  fire 
on  my  head.  She  said,  "  No."  I  said  :  "  This  is  what 
you  are  doing  every  time  you  ask  me  to  eat."  But 
her  kind  words  and  importunity  overcame  me. 

In  a  day  or  two  after  I  had  heard  the  preacher  read 
what  had  been  published  in  the  pajters  concerning 
me,  my  uncle  asked  me  if  I  did  not  wish  to  go  and  see 
my  wife  and  children.  I  replied  that  I  did.  He  said  : 
"  Well,  I  will  carry  you  to-day."  Soon  after  we  started, 
he  looked  at  me  and  said:  "  Johnson,  I  want  you  to 
go  to  meeting  with  me  next  Saturday  at  Shady  Grove. 
The  old  brethren  want  to  see  you  down  there."  I  felt 
confident  I  knew  what  was  in  hand.  I  had  been  pub- 
lished as  an  impostor  ;  Shady  Grove  Church  was  going 
to  excommunicate  me,  and  they  had  requested  my 
uncle  to  get  rae  to  go  without  sending  a  committee  for 
me.  I  made  no  reply  to  my  uncle  at  first,  but  he 
urged  me  again,  and  said:  "  Will  you  not  go?"  I 
then  told  him  it  would  do  no  good,  and  that  I  did  not 
expect  to  go.  He  asked  me  why.  I  told  him  that  I 
did  not  wish  to  interfere  with  the  worship  of  God. 
He  wished  to  know  how  I  would  do  that.  I  told  him 
that  my  presence  would  do  it,  for  that  they  would  be 
thinking  of  little  else  except  me  while  I  was  present. 
He  then  told  me  that  I  would  have  to  go,  and  that  he 
thought  I  had  better  go  then.  All  this  forced  the  con- 
viction upon  my  mind  that  the  iShady  Grove  Church 


172  The  Life  and  Times  of 

was  going  to  exclude  me  from  its  fellowship,  and  had 
requested  my  uncle  to  get  my  consent  to  go,  without 
being  cited  by  a  committee  froQi  the  church,  as  they 
felt  some  delicacy  in  doing  that,  owing  to  my  condi- 
tian.  I  honestly  believed  that  I  was  published  to  the 
world  as  an  impostor,  and  that  everybody  knew  it,  but 
owing  to  my  situation  they  were  not  disposed  to  tell 
me  of  it ;  and  my  feelings  were  so  wretched  in  regard 
to  that  fact  I  was  not  disposed  to  ask  an3'  questions 
on  the  subject. 

My  uncle  said  no  more  to  me  on  that  matter  till  we 
reached  home,  when  he  spoke  to  my  wife  as  follows  : 
"  Martha,  I  have  been  trying  to  get  Johnson  to  go 
with  me  to  the  meeting  at  Shady  Grove  next  Satur- 
day, but  he  seems  to  talk  like  he  shall  not  go,  but  I 
think  he  will,  and  I  want  you  to  try  to  get  him  to  go, 
as  I  think  it  will  be  the  best  for  him  to  go.  And  don't 
you  think  so  too  ?" 

My  wife  joined  my  uncle  in  persuading  me  to  go. 
I  said  but  little,  and  made  no  promises.  But  my 
uncle  told  her  to  have  my  clothes  ready,  as  he  should 
corbe  early  on  Saturday  morning  to  go  with  me  to 
meeting.  He  then  left  for  home,  telling  my  wife  that 
she  must  get  me  in  the  notion  to  go.  I  said  nothing, 
but  had  no  idea  of  going  without  compulsion. 

Soon  after  my  uncle  left  my  wife  commenced  talk- 
ing with  me,  and  very  soon  asked  me  if  I  was  not  go- 
ing to  meeting  with  my  uncle.  I  told  her  that,  I 
reckoned  not.  She  asked  me  why,  I  told  her  as  I 
had  told  my  uncle,  that  it  would  do  no  good,  and 
that  I  did  not  wish   to  interfere   with   the  worship  of 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  173 

God.  I  also  told  her  that  I  was  not  fit  to  go ;  that  I 
should  iiot  attempt  to  make  any  defence  if  I  went; 
that  if  they  should  ask  me  if  I  thought  I  ought  to  be 
retained  as  a  member  of  the  church  I  should  tell  them 
no.  And  finally,  I  told  her  that  I  was  not  considered 
as  a  member  of  the  church.  She  replied  that  she 
knew  better,  and  asked  me  what  made  me  think  so. 
I  told  her  that  my  name  might  be  on  the  church  book, 
but  that  it  would  not  be  there  long.  She  expressed 
her  astonishment  at  my  false  notions,  and  charged  me 
with  folly. 

After  some  further  questions  and  answers  I  told  her 
I  was  published  as  a  vile  impostor,  and  that  I  knew 
enough  about  Shady  Grove  church  to  be  satisfied  that 
yhe  would  not  retain  in  fellowship  a  man  that  was 
pulished  as  an  impostor  ;  and  that  I  was  not  going 
there,  for  it  was  more  than  I  could  bear  to  meet  the 
case.  My  wife  contended  that  there  was  not  a  particle 
of  truth  in  anything  that  I  had  said  on  the  subject, 
and  asked  me  how  I  came  to  take  up  such  false  no- 
tions. I  replied  that  I  hated  it  worse  than  anybody 
else  could  hate  it,  but  it  was  a  dreadful  realitv.  She 
said  to  me:  "Did  anybody  tell  you  so?"  "No,"  said 
I,  "  but  I  heard  it  read."  "  Heard  it  read  by  whom  ?" 
I  replied  that  I  heard  it  read  by  a  minister  of  the  gos- 
pel. She  asked  me  where.  I  told  her  at  my  uncle's. 
She  then  asked  me  if  anybody  heard  it  but  myself.  I 
told  her  yes,  my  uncle  and  a  deacon  of  the  church. 
She  asked  me  some  other  questions  about  the  papers 
in  which  it  was  published.  I  told  her  that  the  min- 
ister-said it  was  published  in  the  Biblical  Recorder  and 


174  TuE  Life  and  Times  op 

the  Spirit  of  the  Age,  and  that  I  did  not  know  which 
paper  he  read,  but  I  heard  him  read  from  one.  My 
wife  then  said  to  me  :  *'  I  intend  to  ask  uncle  Dempsey 
about  this  when  I  see  him,"  and  turned  off,  to  which 
I  replied :  "  Well,  you  can  ask  him,  and  he  may  say 
what  he  pleases  to  you  about  this  matter,  but  I  know 
that  I  heard  it  read,  and  he  heard  it  too." 

The  fact  is,  I  was  of  the  opinion  all  that  time  that 
the  people  were  trying  to  keep  my  wife  and  children 
in  the  dark  in  regard  to  the  true  situation  of  affairs 
in  relation  to  myself.  They  knew  that  my  wife  was  a 
devoted  companion  of  her  husband,  and  that  she  had 
told  them  that  she  would  never  give  me  up.  My  chil- 
dren, likewise,  loved  me  with  filial  affection,  and  if  the 
thing  had  been  made  known  to  them'  as  I  conceived 
it  to  be,  they  would  all  have  been  heartbroken  ;  there- 
fore I  thought  our  friends  and  relatives  were  disposed 
to  keep  these  things  concealed  from  them  as  long  as 
possible. 

The  time  arrived  for  my  uncle  to  come,  in  order  to 
go  with  me  to  meeting.  He  came  at  an  early  hour, 
but  I  had  made  no  preparation  whatever.  My  uncle 
began  huirying  me  up.  I  told  him  I  could  not  go; 
he  said  he  knew  better,  and  that  I  must  go.  I  would 
not  consent,  but  was  disposed  to  get  off  from  him.  At 
last  he  sought  an  interview  with  my  wife,  and  I  was 
as  anxious  to  hear  what  was  said  as  any  person  could 
be,  in  order  that  I  might  find  out  how  things  were 
going.  He  asked  my  wife  why  I  was  so  much  averse 
to  going  to  meeting,  and  she  then  related  to  him  what 
I  had  said  to  her  about  being  published,  and  about 


IIev.  Johnson  Olive.  175 

hearing  it  read  in  his  presence,  &c.  She  then  said  : 
"Uncle  Dem[)sey  is  it  so?"  I  was  situated  where  I 
could  see  them  both.  Ho  replied  to  her:  *' No,  that 
will  never  be."  But  I  saw  in  his  countenance  more 
deceit  than  I  had  ever  seen  before.  I  was  now  more 
thoroughly  convinced  than  ever  before  that  he  was 
using  deception  with  my  poor  wife,  though  I  thought 
perhaps  his  motives  were  pure  in  trying  to  keep  up 
the  anchor  of  hope.  He  tried  me  again  to  go  with 
him,  but  all  to  no  purpose,  for  I  had  determined  not 
to  go,  unless  compelled. 

My  uncle  soon  left,  and  ray  wife  came  to  me  express- 
ing her  sorrow  and  regret  that  I  would  not  consent  to 
go  to  meeting  with  my  dear  old  uncle,  who  had  put 
himself  to  so  much  trouble  and  fatigue  to  get  me  to 
go.  I  made  some  reply,  expressing  my  belief  that  it 
was  best  for  me  not  to  go.  She  then  said  to  me:  "I 
asked  uncle  Dempsey  about  what  you  said  concerning 
your  being  published  as  an  impostor,  and  about  your 
hearing  that  preacher  read  it  at  his  house."  I  asked  : 
"  What  did  he  say  ?"  She  replied  :  "  He  said  '  no,.that 
will, never  be  done.'"  *' Yes,"  said  I,  "  I  heard  him, 
and  I  noticed  him  too;  he  said,  'that  will  never  be 
done,'  but  he  did  ni  t  tell  you  that  it  never  had  been 
done."  It  has  been  published,  and  there  is  no  use  of 
publishing  it  any  more.  Thus  ended  our  conversa- 
tion on  that  subject  for  the  present. 


176  The  Life  and  Times  op 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


I  was  now  left  for  a  time  to  ray  miserable  reflections, 
often  walking  over  woods  and  fields,  and  at  other 
times  trying  to  hide  myself  from  the  face  of  men,  and 
meditating  on  what  course  I  would  pursue  next. 
Sometimes  I  would  conclude  never  to  return  home 
any  more,  but  to  continue  to  wander  further  from 
home;  and  then  again  I  would  conclude  to  return 
home  at  evening. 

I  was  persuaded  to  go  and  stay  a  few  weeks  with  my 
wife's  relations,  who  always  treated  me  with  the 
greatest  kindness,  and  I  often  wondered  how  it  could 
be  that  they  should  show  so  much  kindness  tome 
when  I  had  acted  so  ungrateful  towards  them. 

It  was  also  in  the  earl}^  part  of  this  year  (1861)  that 
my  uncle,  who  had  taken  such  a  lively  interest  in  my 
welfare,  canceived  the  idea  of  getting  up  a  school  at 
my  house,  which  he  said  I  must  teach,  but  knowing 
that  I  would  not  consent  to  undertake  the  business,  he 
employed  a  man  to  take  charge  of  the  school,  and 
urged  me  to  assist  the  teacher  in  giving  instruction  to 
the  children.  The  truth  is,  my  friends  thought  in 
this  way  to  keep  me  out  of  mischief,  and  if  possible,  to 
attract  my  mind  from  the  gloomy  subject  on  which  it 
was  always  running,  and  place  it  on  something  else ; 
and  also  to  keep  me  under  some  sort  of  restraint  from 
running  off  from  home. 

The  school  was  made  up,  and  the  teacher  came.  He 
was  a  good  and  pious  man — a  member  of  the  Meth- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  177 

odist  Church.  His  name  was  William  Long,  of  Chat- 
ham county.  He  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine, 
and  a  man  whom  I  had  always  loved.  Mr.  Long 
labored  hard  with  me  in  trying  to  set  me  right.  We 
often  walked  off  together  at  evening,  and  he  would 
pray  for  me,  and  ask  me  to  join  him.  I  felt  so  dead 
and  dull,  and  withall,  so  condemned,  that  I  had  no 
heart  to  pray.  But  Long  prayed  for  me,  and  often 
shed  tears  freely  while  talking  with  me.  Despair  had 
fast  hold  on  me,  and  I  felt  every  prayer  which  he  of- 
fered up  for  me  only  aggravated  my  dreadful  doom.  I 
would  frequently  tell  him  that  every  act  of  kindness 
which  he  or  any  other  person  showed  to  me  was  heap- 
ing up  coals  of  fire  on  my  head.  He  would  frequently 
offer  me  a  chew  of  tobacco,  and  I  would  say  to  him  : 
"Heap  up  more  coals  of  fire  on  my  head." 

The  school  went  on  for  several  weeks,  and  brother 
Long  would  sometimes  have  me  in  the  house  with  him 
as  an  assistant  teacher;  but  I  felt  altogether  unfit  for 
the  place.  I  would  frequently  get  up  and  walk  out, 
and  be  gone  for  hours,  and  then  return  ;  at  other  times 
I  would  not  return  till  he  or  some  other  person  would 
look  me  up  and  bring  me  back.  Thus  things  went 
on  for  some  considerable  time.  Meanwhile  I  was  get- 
ting no  better,  but  considered  myself  growing  worse 
every  day.  Brother  Long  continued  to  labor  with  me 
more  or  less  all  the  time,  for  he  seemed  to  possess  the 
gift  of  perseverance,  and  a  good  degree  of  patience. 
But  I  am  sure  he  had  many  hard  trials  with  me,  and 
at  times  his  patience  must  have  been  nearly  exhausted. 
I  was  conscious  at  the  time  that  he  was  about  to  give 


178      -  The  Life  and  Times  of 

me  up  as  a  hopeless  case,  for  he  would  sometimes  tell 
me  that  he  had  done  what  he  could,  and  express  his 
regret  that  I  had  no  faith  to  receive  his  instructions 
or  to  believe  what  he  iiad  said  to  me.  I  knew  this  to 
be  a  fact,  but  found  myself  unable  to  avoid  my  own 
conclusions.  My  mother  and  brothers  and  sisters 
would  frequently  come  to  see  me,  but  as  they  had 
already  exhausted  their  power  and  skill  in  trying  to 
talk  me  out  of  my  false  conclusions,  as  they  termed 
them,  they  would  now  seldom  sa}^  anything  to  me  on 
the  subject  of  my.  unhappy  condition.  But  tiiey  were 
still  willing  to  do  something,  if  they  only  knew  what 
to  do 

As  I  was  getting  more  restless  and  ungovernable  at 
home,  my  friends  and  relatives  determined  to  use  every 
effort  to  get  me  to  travel.  They  had  tried  to  do  this 
from  the  first  of  my  troubles,  but  I  had  always  op- 
posed the  idea  myself,  and  would  by  no  means  con- 
sent. I  was  unwilling  that  any  one  should  see  me  in 
that  miserable  plight. 

But  the  time  had  come  when  something  more  must 
be  done,  and  as  this  thing  had  not  been  tried,  they 
were  now  determined  to  get  me  off  if  possible.  My 
uncle,  Dempsey  Johnson,  who  continued  to  visit  me, 
was  the  man  who  must  try  to  get  my  consent.  He 
told  me  that  he  had  consulted  doctors  and  preachers, 
the  wise  and  the  pious,  and  that  they  all  recommended 
that  course,  believing  that  it  would  be  the  best  that 
could  be  done  under  all  the  circumstances  connected 
with  my  case.  And  he  then  asked  me.  if  I  did  not 
wish  the  best  thing  to  be  done.     Of  course  I  had  to 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  179 

give  my  assent  to  the  question,  but  told   him   that  it 
would  do  no  good.     He  knew  that  I  had  an  aversion 
'to  company,  and,  as  such,  would  not  like  to  travel  in 
a  public  way  ;  he  therefore   proposed  to  me  to  take  a 
trip  down  the  country  with  a  man  who  was  going  after 
a  load  of  fish.     I  still   insisted   that  it  would  do  no 
good,  but  lie  insisted  that  I  should  make  the  trial,  and 
asked  me  if  I  thought  it  would   do   me  any  harm.     I 
told  him  no,  for  I  thought  I  would  be  about  as  well  off 
in  one  place  as  another,  but   must  be  miserable  any- 
where.    My  uncle  said  h^  had  consulted  a  number  of 
men  on  the  subject,  and  among   the  rest   he  had  con- 
sulted  an  old   brother,  William  Yates,  the  father  of 
Matthew  T.  Yates,  missionary  to  China,  and  that  all 
of  them   thought  it  would   be   best  for  me  to  go.     I 
finally   consented  to  go  ;  but  before   the   day  arrived 
for  us  to  start  I  got  out  of  the  notion.    They  had  made 
all  the  arrangements,  prepared  a  horse  and  wagon  for 
me,  and  I  was  to  go  down  with  brother  Ensley  Coun- 
cil, and  bring  up  a  load  of  fish,  have  the  profits  of  the 
load  after  reserving  enough   for   my  family.     No  ex- 
pense on  my  part.     All   this  was  intended   to   induce 
me  to  be  willing  to  go.     But  the  truth  of  the  business 
was,  so  ifar  as  I  was  concerned,  it   had   no  bearing  at 
all,  for  I  cared   nothing  about   the  profits  or  the  fish 
either,  only  when  hunger  drove  me  to  desire  food.     I 
tried  hard  to  plead  off  from  going,  but  my  old  uncle 
would    hold    me   to   my  promise.     He  said    that  ray 
friends  had  made  the  arrangements  for  me,  believing 
it  would  be  the  best  thing  that  could  be  done,  and  that 
I  had  given  my  consent  to  go,  and  it  would  never  do 


180  The  Life  and  Times  of 

for  me  to  back  out  now.  I  would  still  contend  that  I 
could  rot  go,  and  urge  as  a  reason  that  I  should  never 
be  able  to  get  back.  He  would  tell  me  that  I  would 
certainly  come  back,  and  asked  me  if  I  could  doubt 
brother  Council,  who  was  going  with  me.  I  continued 
to  raise  my  objections  till  the  hour  arrived  for  us  to 
start.  My  uncle  then  told  me  I  was  bound  to  do  some- 
thing; that  he  had  kept  me  from  going  to  the  asylum 
because  I  was  so  unwilling  to  go,  and  that  he  had  a 
tender  regard  for  me,  but  the  iime  had  now  come 
when  something  more  must  be  done,  and  if  I  would  not 
go  with  brother  Council  to  the  fishery,  I  would  be  car- 
ried to  the  asylum,  and  he  knew  I  had  better  go  to  the 
fishery  if  I  wished  to  keep  out  of  the  asylum.  By 
his  many  kind  words  and  fair  speeches  he  compelled 
me  to  consent  to  make  a  start ;  but  before  we  got  out  of 
sight  of  the  house  where  I  left  my  family  I  refused  to 
go  any  further,  but  by  kind  words  and  fair  speeches 
he  got  my  consent  to  go  on  again. 

After  we  got  to  brother  Council's  I  endeavored  to 
plead  ofi"  from  going,  but  my  uncle  would  not  hear  to 
it.  Indeed  he  was  so  strenuous  on  my  going  that  I 
felt  a  little  insulted  with  him.  I  believed  that  he  had 
given  me  up  and  wished  to  get  me  off  of  hfs  hands 
and  out  of  his  sight. 

My  uncle  went  with  us  a  short  distance,  and  when 
he  was  going  to  turn  back  home  ho  gave  me  his  hand 
to  bid  me  farewell.  I  held  on  to  him  for  some  time, 
and  insisted  on  going  back  with  him.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  place,  and  some  of  my  feelings  on  that  oc- 
casion.    I  never  expected  to  see  him  any  more  in  this 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  181 

world,  for  I  believed  then  that  he  had  given  me  up 
for  lost,  and  was  thus  endeavoring  to  get  me  out  of  his 
sight,  like  one  of  old  who  said  :  "  Bury  my  dead  out 
of  my  sight." 

I  then  concluded  to  go  on  with  brother  Council, 
knowing  that  he  had  always  been  a  true  friend  to 
me.  I  could  have  trusted  him  if  I  had  been  in  a  situ- 
ation to  trust  any  man.  He  did  all  that  he  could  by 
way  of  talking,  and  making  fair  promises  to  encourage 
me  to  go  on  with  him.  He  said  that  he  would  cer- 
tainly bring  me  back  if  his  life  was  spared,  and  even 
if  I  should  die  he  would  box  me  up  and  bring  my 
body  back.  I  believed  him  to  be  honest  and  sincere, 
but  had  no  idea  that  he  would  be  able  to  do  so,  for  I 
believed  that  things  had  been  ordered  differently, 
though  unknown  to  him.  My  impression  was  that  I 
had  become  not  only  burdensome  to  my  family  and 
friends,  but  tormenting  and  disagreeable  to  them  all. 
My  uncle  had  frequently  told  me  that  it  would  not  do 
for  me  to  stay  too  long  at  any  one  place,  for  if  I  did  they 
would  become  nearly  or  quite  as  bad  as  myself.  He 
intimated  to  me  that  my  condition  was  somehow  con- 
tagious, and  if  the  same  persons  continued  with  me 
long,  they  would  become  partially  deranged.  I  had 
also  noticed  that  my  poor  wife,  who  had  borne  the 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day  with  me,  had  shown  some 
signs  of  distress  an,d  great  trouble  when  I  had  con- 
tinued in  her  presence  for  some  time.  And  this  ren- 
dered me  so  miserable  that  I  often  consented  to  leave 
home  and  go  among  my  friends  when  I  otherwise 
should  not     I  believed   the  time  had  come  when  all 


182  The  Life  and  Times  of 

my  relatives  and  friends  were  tired  of  me;  and  for 
the  welfare  of  my  wife  and. children  they  had  con- 
sulted together  and  determined  to  get  me  far  away 
from  them,  and  place  me  somewhere  in  close  confine- 
ment, where  some  person  or  persons  would  be  em- 
ployed to  take  charge  of  me  and  treat  me  as  I  deserved. 
My  impression  was  that  letters  would  be  sent  to  my 
wife  and  children  pretending  that  I  was  getting  better, 
when  the  fact  of  the  case  would  be  I  should  be  grow- 
ing worse  all  the  time.  I  thought  they  would  do  this 
in  order  to  build  up  the  anchor  of  hope  in  the  bosom 
of  my  poor  wife  and  children.  These  impressions 
were  so  firmly  fixed  in  my  mind  that  I  had  no  faith 
in  the  fair  promises  of  brother  Council. 

After  going  with  him  about  five  miles  I  concluded 
to  go  no  further.  I  told  him  he  might  go  on,  but  that 
I  was  going  back  home ;  but  he  commenced  talking  to 
me  in  such  kind  words  and  in  such  a  winning  man- 
ner that  he  gained  my  consent  to  go  on  with  him  to  the 
fishery. 

When  we  got  to  the  City  of  Raleigh  I  lay  down  in 
the  wagon,  hoping  that  I  might  not  be  seen  by  any 
person  there.  As  brother  Council  had  some  business 
to  transact  we  were  detained  there  some  hours,  and 
during  that  time  several  persons  who  h-ad  been  ac- 
quainted with  me  for  years  found  me  out  and  came  to 
see  me.  They  all  seemed  to  sympathize  with  me,  and 
some  of  them  tried  to  talk  with  me,  but  I  had  deter- 
mined not  to  talk,  except  to  answer  a  direct  question. 
They  inquired  about  my  family,  my  health,  &c.,  but  I 
answered  in  as  few  words  as  possible.     I  had  induced 


Rev.  Johnson   Olive.  183 

brother  Council  to  make  solemn  vows  to  me  that  he 
vvouUl  not  carry  me  to  the  asylum,  or  leave  me  in  the 
City  of  Raleigh. 

We  left  late' in  the  evening  and  travelled  four  miles 
below  Raleigh  that  nighiand  struck  camp.  We  w^ere 
in  a  neighborhood  where  I  had  preached  several  years, 
and  in  two  miles  of  the  church.  My  wretched  mind, 
which  had  been  in  a  strain  all  day  reflecting  on  the 
past  and  anticipating  the  future,  now  began  to  settle 
down  on  the  present,  not  to  rest,  but  to  be  tormented 
with  the  scenes  which  now  surrounded  me. 

Brother  Council  had  asked  me  that  evening  if  I  did 
not  wish  to  see  some  of  the  old  brethren  of  Bethel 
Church.  I  told  him  no.  He  replied  that  it  was  very 
strange,  "  for,"  said  he,  "  you  used  to  love  to  come 
down  here  to  see  them,  and  why  not  now  ;  I  know  they 
would  be  glad  to  see  you."  I  told  him  if  I  could  see 
them,  as  I  had  seen  them  in  days  past,  I  would  be 
glad  to  do  so;  but  to  see  them  in  my  present  condi- 
tion I  had  no  desire  for  it,  as  it  would  do  me  no  good, 
or  them  either.  He  said  he  had  thought  of  sending 
some  of  them  word  to  come  out  to  our  camp  that  night 
and  see  me.  I  told  him  he  need  not  do  it,  asldid  not 
wish  to  see  them  ;  but  in  a  short  time  after  night 
several  persons  came  to  our  camp  to  see  me.  They  all 
appeared  glad  and  anxious  to  talk  with  me.  I  had 
but  little  to  say,'  except  to  answ^er  direct  questions. 
They  seemed  disposed  to  make  me  believe  that  I  was 
getting  better,  but  I  told  them  that  I  was  getting  worse 
every  day.  Some  of  them  came  like  Job's  friends,  to 
comfort  me,  but  I,  like  him,  found  them  all  miserable 


184  *    The  Life  and  Times  of 

comforters.  I  did  not  doubt  their  sincerity  or  purity 
of  motives,  but  I  bad  no  faith  in  their  wisdom  or  power 
to  do  me  any  good. 

Some  things  which  occurred  that  night,  dreadful  to 
my  feelings  then,  have  amused  me  in  thinking  over 
them  since  that  time.  There  was  one  man  in  partic- 
ular who  annoyed  me  very  much  by  his  words  and 
acts.  He  was  no  professor  of  religion,  but  a  man  who 
had  often  heard  me  preach.  He  had  been  indulging 
rather  freely  that  evening,  and  he  appeared  very  anx- 
ious to  see  me,  and  if  possible,  to  find  out  the  cause  of 
my  derangement,  I  nad  seated  myself  at  the  root  of 
a  pine  tree,  and  appeared  as  dejected  and  forlorn  as  a 
man  well  could.  He  enquired  of  others  where  I  was. 
They  pointed  me  out  to  him.  He  raised  himself  up, 
and  then  stooping  over  towards  me,  exclaimed :  "  Is 
that  Johnson  Olive;  is  that  the  man  whom  I  used  to 
hear  preach  at  old  Bethel  ?"  Brother  Council  would 
reply  to  his  interrogations  by  saying:  "Yes,  that  is 
brother  Olive,  and  he  will  be  preaching  again  some  of 
these  times."  The  intoxicated  man  would  say :  "Well, 
I  never  should  have  known  him.  What  did  put  him 
in  that  fix?"  Brother  Council  would  say:  "Oh,  he 
has  studied  too  hard;  but  he  will  soon  be  all  right 
and  preaching  again."  The  man  would  peep  at  me 
and  raise  himself  up,  and  then  exclaim :  "It  is  one  of 
the  strangest  things  that  I  ever  saw.  Why,  I  have 
heard  that  man  preach  at  old  Bethel  many  times,  and 
be  would  get  up  in  the  stand,  take  the  old  book,  and 
read  out  his  text,  and  then  close  the  book,  and  go 
right  on,  as  though  it  were  all  before  him.     Why,  he 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  185 

knew  it  all  !'^  Brother  Council  would  reply  :  "  Yes, 
and  he  knows  it  all  now.  0!  he  will  be  all  right 
again." 

At  this  juncture  I  felt  more  like  a  fool  than  any- 
thing else,  for  it  appeared  to  me  that  I  vv^as  a  laughing 
stock  for  the  crowd.  One  of  my  comforters,  seeing  my 
uneasiness  and  sympathizing  with  me,  volunteered  his 
services  to  vindicate  my  cause.  I  was  sitting  by  the 
pine,  saying  nothing,  but  feeling  as  mean  as  a  dumb 
devil.  My  comforter  exclaimed:  "Gentlemen,  you 
don't  know  that  man  as  well  as  I  do;  I  have  been  ac- 
quainted with  him  ever  since  we  were  little  boys.  We 
are  about  the  same  age,  for  I  have  heard  my  mother 
say  SO'.  I  shall  never  forget  the  time  when  I  was  a 
little  boy,  going  to  mill  and  let  my  bag  fall  off,  and  he 
came  along  and  helped  me  up  with  it.  I  have  known 
him  ever  since,  and  he  has  always  been  kind-hearted, 
friendly  and  obliging,  and  I  know  he  cannot  help  his 
condition,  for  if  he  could  he  would;  but,"  said  he, 
"we  all  have  our  opinions  about  these  things,  and  I 
have  mine."  Some  one  of  the  crowd  asked  him  to 
state  hii  opinion,  to  which  he  replied:  "The  Bible 
says  before  the  end  of  time  there  shall  be  wars  and 
rumors  of  wars,  and  these  things  are  now  upon  us," 
(as  the  great  battles  of  61  were  beginning  to  be  fought.) 
"  But,"  said  he,  "  the  Bible  does  not  stop  here,  but 
goes  on  to  say,  that  in  the  latter  days,  '  false  Christ  and 
false  teachers  shall  arise,  and  go  out  and  deceive  many, 
and  if  it  were  possible  they  would  deceive  the  very 
elect.'  Now,"  said  he,  "all  those  Scriptures  must 
be  fulfilled,  and  there  must  be  some  person  or  persons 


186  The  Life  and  Times  of 

to  fulfill  them,  and  the  lot  happening  to  fall  on  him,  he 
must  needs  be  one  of  them;  but  he  should  not  be 
blamed,  for  he  cannot  help  it."  And  he  asked  me  if  I 
did  not  view  it  in  the  same  way.  I  replied  that  I  did, 
or  that  I  believed  it  was  so. 

My  feelings  here  are  more  easily  imagined  than  de- 
scribed. I  felt  meaner  -than  a  thief  would  feel  who 
had  been  caught  stealing,  taken  up  and  tried,  found 
guilty  and  condemned,  and  punished,  by  receiving  the 
full  penalty  of  the  law.  Bat  afterwards,  being  met  by 
the  man  from  whom  he  had  been  stealing  (in  a  public 
crowd),  he  speaks  to  him  kindly,  introduces  him  to  the 
persons  present,  and  very  kindly  reminds  them  this  is 
the  man  that  he  caught  stealing  his  goods,  and  that 
although  he  had  taken  steps  to  have  him  brought  to 
justice — had  him  tried,  condemned  aiid  whipped  for 
his  roguishness,  yet  he  would  not  have  the  crowd  think 
any  the  less  of  him  on  that  account,  for  the  Scriptures 
say  that  some  men  will  steal,  and  they  must  be  ful- 
filled ;  the  lot  happened  to  fall  on  him;  he  could  not 
help  it;  he  is  kind-hearted,  and  a  very  good  sort  of  a 
fellow,  only  he  has  a  propensity  to  steal ;  but  you 
should  not  think  any  the  less  of  him  on  that  account. 

In  reflecting  on  these  things  I  have  received  many 
useful  lessons  of  instruction.  I  find  man  to  be  a  poor, 
imperfect  creature,  at  best;  and  when  laboring  under 
any  disordered  state  of  mind  he  will  exhibit  more 
clearly  the  depravity  of  human  nature. 

People  who  had  seen  me  but  a  few  months  and  years 
previoas  to  that  time,  and  who  had  heard  me. pro- 
claiming the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  through  a  cru- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  187 

cified  Redeemer,  and  inviting  sinners  to  the  Gospel 
supper  through  the  medium  of  repentance  towards 
God  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  the  terms 
of  acceptance,  would  scarcely  recognize  me  now  in  my 
unhappy  state,  being  dead  to  all  spiritual  things,  and 
could  think  of  nothing  in  connection  with  my  former 
life  but  in  a  way  of  condemnation.  I  was  passing 
through  the  valley  of  Achor ;  darkness  had  shrouded 
my  mind;  faith  gone;  not  one  ray  of  hope  to  pene- 
trate, or  even  glimmer  in  my  soul  was  perceptible  to 
me.  But  darkness,  death,  and  dread  despair  reigned 
in  constant  horrors  there.  And  yet  memory  was  so 
fresh  and  retentive !  The  past,  the  present  and  the 
future  were  constantly  passing  before  the  eye  of  the 
mind,  loaded  with  horrid  and  terrific  consequences. 

My  sufferings  and  my  sorrows  here, 

No  human  tongue  has  told ; 
I  "would  not  pass  through  them  again, 

For  my  full  weight  in  gold. 

My  friends  who  were  trying  to  comfort  me  greatly 
mistook  my  case,  and  every  effort  on  their  part  seemed 
only  to  sink  me  lower  in  the  trough  of  despond.  I 
think  I  must  have  experienced  some  of  the  torments 
of  the  damned.  My  conscience,  my  reason  and  my 
judgment,  all  justified  God  in  His  dealings  towards 
me,  and  yet  I  would  not  have  borne  it  if  I  could  have 
evaded  it.  Like  the  coiidemned  culprit,  justice  was 
what  I  dreaded  most.  0!  the  worm  that  dieth  not, 
and  the  fire  which  is  never  to  be  quenched  !  Who  can 
bear  it?     Sinner,  can  you  ? 

I  have  also  discovered  great  ignorance  in  the  minds 


188  The  Life  and  Times  of 

of  many  well  intended  persons  in  their  exposition  of 
the  Scriptures.  Men  do  greatly  err  not  knowing  the 
Scriptures  nor  the  power  of  God.  Men  have  always, 
since  the  fall,  been  trying  to  hide  their  sins,  or  to  ex- 
onerate themselves  from  guilt ;  and  they  would  gladly 
wrest  the  Scriptures  from  their  true  interpretation  to 
justify  them  in  doing  so.  False  Christ  and  false  teach- 
ers are  none  the  less  criminal  from  the  fact  that  they 
are  foretold  in  Scriptures.  Men  make  them  a  subter- 
fuge fortheirsinsnow, but  they  will  not  be  able  to  stand 
to  them  hereafter.  Many  of  these  false  subterfuges  will 
be  swept  away  by  the  storms  and  tempests  of  God's 
wrath  in  time,  and  all  will  be  swept  away  with  a  besom 
of  destruction  in  eternity.  Man's  duty  is  to  obey  God, 
to  fear  him  and  keep  His  commandments.  And  when 
he  undertakes  to  fathom  the  mind  of  God,  and  to  pry 
into  the  secrets  of  Jehovah,  to  understand  His  decrees, 
his  foreknowledge,  his  purposes  and  designs,  he  is 
going  beyond  bis  limits,  and  aspiring  to  be  like 
God,  and  know  all  things  ;  he  makes  himself  more 
like  the  devil,  and  shows  his  folly  in  doing  so.  God 
has  given  His  intelligent  creatures  a  sense  of  their  ac- 
countability, and  hence  man  feels  himself  responsible 
to  God  for  his  conduct,  and  this  is  what  man  wishes 
to  throw  off.  He  does  not  wish  to  come  to  the. light, 
lest  his  deeds  be  reproved.  He  loves  darkness  rather 
than  light,  because  his  deeds  are  evil.  Thus  he  al- 
ways tries  to  extenuate  his  guilt,  and  shift  off  the 
blame  on  some  one  else.  It  would  be  much  better  to 
come  up  to  the  touchstone  at  once,  and  let  the  plain, 
naked  facts  speak  for  themselves.     In   this  way  truth 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  189 

would  be  respected,  the  temptation  to  lie  would  be 
weakened,  and  moral  habits  strengthened.  In  short, 
man  would  be  the  better  prepared  to  serve  God,  pro- 
mote virtue,  and  be  useful  in  the  world.  Try  this 
rule. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


I  will  now  return  to  the  camp  whence  I  left.  We 
remained  there  that  night,  and  next  morning  at  an 
early  hour  we  started  on  our  journey  to  the  fishery. 
We  had  not  gone  far  before  we  found  old  brother 
Lewis  Dupre  and  sister  Dupre,  his  wife,  with  several 
other  persons,  waiting  on  the  roadside  to  see  me  as  I 
passed.  The  scene  was  very  affecting  to  me.  Old 
brother  Dupre  came  up  to  the  wagon  and  shook  hands 
with  me,  and  I  saw  the  big  tears  start  from  his  eyes, 
and  I  caught  him  around  the  neck  and  hugged  him, 
though  I  felt  that  it  was  like  the  devil  hugging  a  saint. 
Sister  Dupre  brought  out  some  sweet  bread  and  pressed 
me  to  take  some,  which  I  did  for  her  sake,  feeling  at 
the  time  it  was  like  coals  of  fire  being  heaped  on  my 
head. 

I  have  named  these  little  things  to  let  the  reader 
know  how  fresh  and  retentive  my  mind  was  at  that 
time,  and  how  indellibly  every  little  incident  was  im- 
pressed upon  my  memory.  And  this  was  generally 
the  case  during  that  awful  period  of  five  years  in  the 
history  of  my  life,  and  during  which  time  people 
looked  upon  me  as  being  a  deranged  man. 


190  The  Life  and  Times  of 

We  went  on  our  journey,  and  were  soon  out  of  the 
circle  of  my  acquaintance,  but  strangers  and  every- 
body seemed  disposed  to  treat  me  witli  great  kind- 
ness; so  much  so  that  I  believed  they  had  been  noti- 
fied that  I  was  coming,  and  that  ail  intended  to  try  to 
get  me  out  of  the  world  by  over  much  kintlness. 

I  saw  many  beautiful  farms  in  Pitt  county,  near 
Greenville.  I  also  saw  several  companies  of  volun- 
teers drilling,  in  order  to  prepare  for  the  field  of  bat- 
tle. 1  had  many  strange  thoughts  about  these  things, 
but  said  nothing.  I  thought  the  young  men  looked 
as  if  they  thought  they  were  going  to  a  frolic,  or 
merely  to  have  a  little  fun  in  a  child's  play.  They 
were  generally  profane,  and  would  swear  that  they 
would  have  Lincoln's  head  or  a  lock  of  his  hair.  I 
was  conscious  that  they  were  oversighted.  I  knew 
that  the  spirit  of  war  was  calculated  to  inflame  the 
mind  and  fire  the  heart.  Mean  as  I  was,  in  my  own 
estimation,  I  was  sorry  to  see  them  going  into  the  very 
jaws  of  deatli  so  little  prepared.  I  would  much  rather 
have  seen  them  all  religious;  then  I  should  have  had 
strong  hopes  of  our  success;  but  I  feared  that  there 
was  not  salt  enough  to  save  the  lump.  Poor  fellows! 
But  few  of  them  lived  to  return  home  to  their  rela- 
tives and  friends.  Yet  we  can  but  hope  that  the  power 
of  mercy  and  goodness  of  God  reached  many  of  their 
hearts  before  they  died. 

When  we  arrived  at  Old  Jamestown,  in  Martin 
county,  we  concluded  to  carry  our  wagons  no  further. 
We  got  in  a  boat  and  went  down  to  a  fishery  some 
miles  below.    The  owner  of  the  sein  treated  me  with 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  191 

the  utmost  kindness.  He  even  gave  up  his  hed  for  me 
to  lie  on,  and  would  have  everything  served  up  in  the 
nicest  order  for  my  accommodation.  Anything  in  the 
way  of  the  finny  tribe  that  I  wanted  must  come.  T 
I  have  never  yet  fully  understood  why  strangers  were 
so  kind  to  me. 

We  soon  had  our  wagons  loaded  and  started  for 
home.  Nothing  of  special  interest  took  place  till  we 
arrived  at  Clayton,  in  Johnston  county.  Here  we  met 
up  with  a  man  who  had  been  acquainted  with  me  for 
years.  He  was  a  Captain  of  a  company  of  volunteers. 
He  tried  hard  to  get  my  consent  to  preach  in  the  Bap- 
tist church  that  night,  but  he  might  as  well  have  tried 
to  get  my  consent  to  start  to  the  moon,  for  only  one 
thing  would  have  induced  me  to  make  the  attempt 
then,  and  that  was  to  believe  it  would  enable  me  to 
get  out  of  my  unhappy  condition.  But  as  f  had  , no 
faith  that  could  not  be. 

We  came  on  near  Raleigh  and  stayed  all  night  at 
the  same  place  where  we  camped  the  first  night  after 
leaving  home,  where  so  many  things  occurred,  a  part 
of  which  I  have  related.  We  lay  in  the  house  that 
night,  and  took  supper  with  the  family. 

Next  morning  we  came  on  through  Raleigh,  and 
made  our  way  home  that  night.  I  felt  glad  to  meet 
ray  wife  and  children  once  more,  as  I  had  expected  on 
leaving  them  two  weeks  before  never  to  see  them- any 
more  in  this  world.  My  dear  wife  met  me  with  pleas- 
ing emotions,  hoping  and  believing  that  I  had  greatly 
improved.  In  order  to  encourage  her,  I  professed  to 
be  a  little  better,  but  in  reality  I  felt  no  better,  only  I 


192  The  Life  and  Times  op 

was  glad  to  see  them.  My  relatives,  friends  and  neigh- 
bors continued  to  coine  to  see  me,  and  ask  me  ques- 
tions about  my  trip  to  the  fishery.  I  now  determined 
never  to  leave  home  so  far  any  more,  unless  I  was 
forced  to  do  so. 

I  soon  became  restless  again,  and  could  not  remain 
in  one  place  long.  I  would  sometimes  imagine  that 
my  uncle  would  come  after  me  to  take  me  off  to  the 
asylum,  and  I  have  frequently  left  home  in  the  morn- 
ing and  stayed  off  all  day  to  prevent  being  seen. 
Sometimes  I  would  lie  down,  sometimes  walk  through 
the  woods,  up  and  down  the  banks  of  creeks  and 
branches  seeking  rest,  but  finding  none.  In  this  way 
I  often  rendered  my  wife  very  unhappy,  and  some- 
times uneasy.  She  had  sometimes  walked  till  she  has 
tired  herself  down  looking  for  me,  and  then  at  night 
I  would  come  up  like  a  cow  to  be  fed.  My  poor  wife 
would  often  reprove  me  for  doing  so,  and  beg  me  with 
tears  in  her  eyes  not  to  do  so  any  more.  I  would  often 
resolve  that  I  never  would  do  so  again,  and  perhaps 
the  very  next  day  I  would  go  and  do  the  very  same 
thing  over  again,  or  something  worse.  No  person 
could  condemn  my  course  more  strongly  than  I  did 
in  my  own  mind,  and  yet  I  would  pursue  it.  I  have 
often  felt  the  force  and  truth  of  the  words  of  the  poet, 
when  he  said : 

' '  I  see  the  right,  and  approve  it  too, 
I  hate  the  wrong,  and  yet  the  wrong  pursue." 

I  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  spring  of  1862  about* 
home  and  visiting  my  relations  and  the  relations  of 
my  wife.     They  would  frequently  come  after  me  and 


,  Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  193 

take  me  home  with  them,  in  order,  as  I  thought,  to 
give  my  wife  and  children  a  little  rest,  for  I  believed 
that  I  was  a  tormenter  to  all  who  w^ere  with  me;  an(} 
for  the  sake  of  my  poor  wife,  who  had  always  proved 
so  kind  to  me,  I  would  consent  to  leave  home  when  I 
had  no  inclination  to  do  so,  and  otherwise  would  not 
have  consented  to  leave. 

I  recollect  on  one  occasion  my  wife's  brother,  Jack- 
son Hunter,  came  after  me  to  go  home  with  him.  I 
believed  he  was  mad  with  me  for  having  deceived  his 
sister  so  long,  and  being  the  cause  of  so  much  trouble 
to  her.  The  impression  rushed  into  my  mind  that  he 
was  going  to  have  me  taken  away  from  my  family, 
and  that  his  plan  w^as  to  persuade  me  to  go  home  with 
him  and  have  a  company  of  men  there  to  take  me 
off  to  the  asylum,  or  to  some  other  place,  far  away 
from  my  family.  I  refused  to  go.  He  talked  kindly 
to  me,  and  told  me  that  I  must  go  with  him,  as  he  had 
come  on  purpose  to  take  me  home  with  him.  I  still 
refused  to  go,  and  he  then  went  and  talked  with  my 
wife,  and  she  came  to  persuade  me  to  go  with  her 
brother.  I  still  refused  to  go,  and  he  took  hold  of  my 
arm  to  pull  me  on  with  him ;  I  resisted,  and  laid  hold 
of  the  piazza  post  and  refused  to  let  go.  He  then  told 
my  wife  to  help  him  get  me  in  the  buggy  with  him, 
and  she  came  to  break  my  hold  from  the  post.  This 
act  of  hers  irritated  me  a  little,  but  I  made  no  further 
resistance,  for  I  felt  that  she  was  tired  of  me  and 
wished  to  get  me  away  from  her.  We  mounted  the 
buggy  together.  (I  would  not  bid  my  dear  wife  fare- 
well, but  her  brother  laid  his  arm  around  me  to  pre- 
9 


194  The  Life  and  Times  of 

vent  my  jumping  out  and  leaving  him.)  There  was 
no  danger,  however,  for  I  had  no  idea  of  leaving,  even 
if  he  had  been  going  to  throw  me  into  prison,  for  I 
had  but  little  care  about  me  then. 

After  going  on  a  short  distance  I  told  him  there  was 
no  use  for  him  to  be  holding  on  to  me.  He  said  that 
he  was  afraid  that  I  would  jump  out  and  leave  him. 
I  told  him  that  I  would  not.  He  then  loosed  his  arm 
from  around  me,  and  I  made  no  attempt  to  leave  him. 

I  remained  at  his  house  for  several  da^^s,  and  then 
he  carried  me  home.  He  tried  to  talk  with  me  a  great 
deal,  and  gave  me  much  good  advice,  but  I  was  in  a 
poor  {)light  to  receive  any  material  benefit  from  good 
instruction. 

After  remaining  about  home  and  visiting  my  mother, 
brothers  and  sisters,  I  became  restless  and  uneasy 
again,  so  much  so  that  I  was  rendering  my  fauiily 
very  unhappy. 

About  this  time  another  one  of  my  wife's  brothers 
came  to  our  neighborhood  on  business.  Some  one 
told  him  how  I  was  acting,  and  how  distressing  my 
conduct  was  to  my  wife  and  children.  It  was  J.  C. 
Hunter,  and  I  had  understood  long  before  that  he  had 
said,  when  talking  about  me,  that  he  had  no  use  for 
fools  anyway.  He  was  advised  to  go  to  my  house  and 
take  me  home  with  him  awhile.  He  came,  but  I  was 
not  at  home;  I  was  over  at  the  house  of  my  brother- 
in-law,  Mark  Barker  He  followed  me  up  till  he 
found  me.  He  came  to  me  apparently  very  friendly. 
I  believed  that  he  was  using  deception,  for  I  felt  that 
he  was  mad  with  me,  and  hated  me  in  his  heart.     He 


Rev.  Johnson   Olive.  195 

soon  told  me  that  he  had  come  for  me  to  go  home 
with  liim,  and  said  that  I  had  been  to  see  all  the  rest, 
but  had  not  yet  been  to  see  him.  I  tried  to  frame  ex- 
cuses and  raise  objections  to  going.  He  persuaded  and 
insisted,  while  I  continued  to  raise  objections  and  re- 
fused to  go;  but  after  awhile  he  took  me  aside,  and 
with  his  many  kind  words  and  fair  speech  he  causecl 
me  to  yield. 

I  went  with  him  home.  He  and  his  wife  and  family 
all  treated  me  with  great  kindness,  but  I  felt  unde- 
serving, and  it  seemed  like  heaping  coals  of  fire  on  my 
head. 

One  morning  while  I  was  at  J.  C.  Hunter's  he  asked 
me  if  I  could  not  help  him  shed-in  his  barn.  I  told 
him  I  thought  I  could.  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  want  you 
to  help  me  put  on  shingles  to-day."  I  told  him  that 
I  would  try  and  do  so. 

After  breakfast  we  went  out  to  the  barn,  threw  up  a 
quantity  of  shingles  on  the  scaffold,  and  went  up  to 
lay  and  nail  them  on.  He  gave  me  my  choice  to  lay 
down  shingles  or  nail  them  on.  I  told  him  that  I 
would  lay  the  shingles  awhile  and  see  if  I  could  suit 
him,  and  if  not,  he  might  lay  and  I  would  nail.  He 
soon  commenced  praising  me,  and  said  that  I  could 
beat  him.  I  thought  he  was  trying  to  flatter  me,  but 
said  nothing. 

We  worked  on  for  some  time,  when  another  man 
came  to  help  us.  My  brother-in-law  told  the  last 
comer  that  if  he  wished  I  might  lay  shingles  for  him, 
as  he  had  found  me  to  be  a  first  rate  hand  at  that  busi- 
ness, and   that  he,  my  brother-in-law,  would   lay  and 


196  The  Life  and  Times  of 

nail  for  himself.  The  man  replied  that  he  would  pre- 
fer to  do  his  own  work  ;  that  I  might  continue  to  lay 
for  him  as  I  had  been  doing.  I  was  confident  that  the 
man  did  not  want  me  about  him,  and  T  was  also  con- 
scious of  the  fact  that  my  brother-in-law  had  merely 
invited  me  to  help  him  in  order  that  I  might  not  get 
away  from  him  by  running  off. 

We  all  continued  to  labor  on  till  about  10  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  when  the  sun  was  shining  very  warm. 
We  all  lolled  back  on  the  shelter  to  rest  a  few  minutes. 
The  man  of  whom  I  have  been  speaking  was  sitting  near 
me.  I  do  not  recollect  that  he  had  spoken  to  me  thatf 
day.  He  now  looked  me  straight  in  the  face  and  said  : 
"  Didn't  you  use  to  preach  ?"  I  replied  to  him  by  say- 
ing, "  I  used  to  try."  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  thought  you 
did.  Don't  you  reckon  you'll  preach  again  some 
time  ?"  I  told  him  "  no,  I  had  no  idea  of  ever  trying 
to  preach  any  more,"  when  he  replied:  "Well,  you 
are  the  queerest  man  I  ever  seed."  My  brother-in-law 
knew  that  I  did  not  wish  to  talk  upon  that  subject; 
he  therefore  tried  to  turn  the  conversation  by  propos- 
ing that  the  man  should  wrestle  with  me  on  the 
shelter.  I  instantly  rose  up  and  said  to  the  man  :  "If 
you  feel  like  wrestling,  here  is  at  you."  The  man  be- 
came frightened,  and  came  near  running  off  the 
shelter.  After  this  he  did  not  choose  to  come  near  me 
while  I  remained  there. 

I  have  since  learned  that  he  said  that  he  did  not 
like  to  stay  up  there  with  me,  for  fear  that  I  might  get 
bold  of  him  and  throw  him  off  and  break  his  neck,  a3 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  197 

he  had  always  understood  that  deranged  persons  were 
the  strongest  people  in  the  world. 

I  have  related  the  above  incidents  to  show  how  re- 
tentive my  memory  was,  and  is,  of  all  that  took  place 
during  that  dark  period  of  my  life.  I  was  the  most 
wretched  and  miserable  person  you  ever  saw,  and  yet 
I  could  not  forget  anything,  or  suffer  anything  to  pass 
under  my  observation  unnoticed.  When  my  brother- 
in-law  proposed  for  me  and  that  man  to  wrestle,  I  felt 
for  one  moment  all  my  mischievous  propensities  rise 
within  me,  and  a  native  vein  of  humor  ran  all  over  me 
in  an  instant.  If  he  had  accepted  my  banter  I  should 
have  tried  to  throw  him,  not  with  any  desire  to  hurt 
him,  for  I  would  rather  have  been  killed  myself  than 
to  have  killed  him  at  that  time. 

I  continued  there  but  a  few  days,  and  then  went 
over  to  Isaac  Hunter's,  and  from  there  I  went  to  J. 
W.  Rogers',  and  after  staying  there  a  few  days  he  took 
me  in  his  buggy  and  carried  me  home. 

I  remained  at  home,  and  about  home,  for  some 
weeks.  I  would  continue  to  run  off  occasionally,  and 
give  my  poor  wife  more  trouble  and  uneasiness.  Some- 
times my  dear  old  mother  would  come  and  get  me  to 
go  home  with  her,  and  again  some  brother  or  sister 
would  come  and  persuade  me  to  go  with  them.  Thus 
I  was  going  from  place  to  place,  possessed  with  a  dumb 
devil,  tormented  day  and  night  myself,  and  proving  a 
tormenter  to  all  who  were  with  me. 

In  the  month  of  May  our  youngest  child,  a  little  in- 
fant some  six  or  eight  months  old,  was  taken  very 
sick.     I  believed  that  I  was  the  cause  of  its  sickness 


198  The  Life  and  Times  of 

and  when  it  died  I  believed  I  was  the  cause  of  its 
death.  While  it  was  sick  and  languishing,  I  tried  to 
do  all  that  I  could  to  have  it  cured.  I  recommended 
my  wife  in  sending  for  a  doctor,  but  I  felt  so  misera- 
bly condemned  that  I  dared  not  face  the  doctor.  I 
suppose  I  felt  somewhat  like  a  man  who  in  a  fit  of  in- 
toxication or  madness  had  struck  one  of  his  children 
and  given  it  a  fatal  wound  or  death  blow  ;  but  while 
the  child  lingered  in  pain,  and  in  the  agonies  of  death 
the  father  manifested  great  concern  for  the  life  of  the 
child,  and  would  gladly  do  all  in  his  power  to  prolong 
its  time.  Our  child  continued  to  grow  worse,  and  the 
disease  continued  to  fasten  on  its  vitals,  till  it  expired. 
I  felt  too  mean  to  live,  and  yet  I  could  not  die.  I  felt 
that  I  stood  guilty  in  the  sight  of  God  of  murdering 
my  child,  I  could  not  shed  a  tear,  for  my  heart  was 
as  hard  as  adamant.  My  anguish  was  so  great  that  I 
soon  left  the  house,  intending  to  go  oflp  and  never  re- 
turn. I  wandered  through  woods  and  fields,  and  at 
last  I  lay  down  to  try  to  rest,  for  my  burden  was  heavy. 
My  brother,  Holaway  Olive,  and  Mark  Barker  found 
me,  after  hunting  for  me  some  time.  They  both  re- 
proved me  for  doing  as  I  had,  in  leaving  my  poor  dis- 
consolate wife  with  her  dead  child  in  the  house,  to 
serve  alone,  and  attend  to  the  preparation  for  the 
burial  of  the  child.  I  told  them  that  I  was  the  cause 
of  the  death  of  the  child,  and  if  I  stayed  there  I  should 
be  the  cause  of  the  death  of  my  wife,  for  that  I  felt 
certain  she  would  not  live  long  if  I  stayed  about  her. 
They  both  said  I  was  superstitious,  and  that  I  was 
always  taking  up  false  notions. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  199 

They  fiaally  prevailed  on  me  to  go  to  the  house. 
When  I  got  there  my  poor  wife  was  bathed  in  tears, 
some  of  my  children  cryiug,  but  my  demon  heart  was 
as  hard  as  ever. 

Our  friends  and  neighbors  had  made  all  the  neces- 
sary arrangements  for  the  burial  of  the  child.  They 
had  interrogated  me  and  my  wife  concerning  the 
place  where  we  wanted  it  to  be  buried.  Our  oldest 
child,  a  beloved  daughter,  was  buried  at  our  place  on 
Middle  Creek.  We  concluded  to  have  our  little  infant 
son  carried  there  and  buried  by  its  sister,  and  not  have 
our  dead  children  scattered  all  over  the  world.  The 
distance  was  about  twelve  miles,  and  I  had  never  been 
back  there  since  I  first  left.  I  did  not  wish  to  go  now. 
I  should  there  have  my  mind  filled  with  the  awful 
past  and  future.  It  was  there  I  had  attempted  to  take 
my  own ,  wretched  life  and  failed.  I  must  pass  the 
very  place  w^hich  I  had  selected  to  commit  the  horrid 
deed.  I  must  go  with  my  poor  heartbroken  wife, 
whom  I  had  already  ruined,  and  was  murdering  her 
by  degrees  as  fast  as  I  |could  by  my  devilish  conduct. 
But  oh  !  I  must  carry  along  with  me  my  murdered 
child,  and  myself  the  murderer.  I  must  meet  my  old 
neighbors  and  friends  at  the  burying,  and  feel  that 
they  all  must  know  that  I  had  been  the  cause  of  my 
own  child's  death. 

All  these  things,  and  many  other?,  were  rushing 
into  my  mind  by  way  of  anticipation,  I  did  not  feel 
willing  to  abide  them.  I  insisted  that  they  should  let 
me  stay  at  home,  and  leave  it  for  others  to  go  with  my 
poor  heartbroken  wife  to  bury  our  child.     My  broth 


200  The  Life  and  Times  of 

ers  and  sisters  would  not  hear  to  my  excuses.  They 
said  I  must  go,  and  began  to  make  arrangements  to 
get  off.  My  wife  insisted  on  my  going,  and  at  last  I 
consented  to  go  with  her.  1  sometimes  wished  that  I 
was  dead,  and  lying  in  a  coffin  beside  my  child. 
Awful  feelings,  but  I  said  nothing. 

When  we  got  to  our  former  home,  where  we  were  to 
have  our  child  buried,  there  were  a  good  many  people 
present,  waiting  for  us  to  come.  They  met  me  and 
spoke  to  me  kindly,  but  my  feelings  were  awful  in  the 
extreme.  Our  child  was  buried  in  the  evening,  the 
company  dispersed,  and  we  continued  there  that  night 
with  brother  Goodwin  and  his  wife  and  family,  who 
were  living  there  that  year. 

Next  morning  brother  Goodwin  took  me  off  to  show 
me  his  crop.  I  felt  so  mean  that  I  could  hardly  hold 
up  my  head,  and  yet  I  was  treated  with  the  utmost 
kindness  by  brother  Goodwin  and  his  wife. 

I  shall  never  be  able  to  describe  my  desperate  feel- 
ings about  this  time;  for  I  felt  and  believed  that  I  was 
undone  for  time  and  eternity,  and  no  way  to  help. my- 
self. Sometimes  I  would  murmur  and  complain  at 
my  unhappy  lot ;  but  on  reflection  I  would  feel  that  I 
was  only  suffering  what  was  justly  due. 

Having  attended  the  burial  of  our  child,  and  re- 
mained at  our  old  home  during  the  night,  we  left  for 
our  new  home  next  day.  We  traveled  very  slowly, 
for  I  felt  as  though  I  had  killed  my  child  and  buried 
it,  and  was  now  taking  my  poor  heart-broken  wife 
home,  to  linger  on  a  short  time,  and  follow  in  the  foot- 
steps of  her  children  to  the  grave.     And  that  I  should 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  201 

be  guilty  of  the  death  of  all,  because  I  believed  I 
should  finally  wear  them  all  out  if  I  continued  with 
them.  Many  and  many  times  did  I  wish  that  I  had 
succeeded  in  taking  my  own  wretched  life  before  the 
awful  crisis  had  arrived  which  I  was  now  passing 
through  and  doomed  to  witness. 

About  this  period  of  my  unhappy  life  I  had  become 
so  cowardly  in  my  spirit,  and  so  weakened  in  my  reso- 
lutions and  nervous  system,  that  I  made  no  further  at- 
tempt to  end  my  miserable  life,  for  I  was  now  con- 
vinced (and  had  been  for  some  time),  that  God  would 
not  suffer  me  to  sneak  out  of  the  world  in  that  way. 
This  was  in  the  latter  part  of  May,  1862. 

When  we  got  home  we  found  the  rest  of  our  familv 
well,  but  the  place  seemed  to  be  shrouded  in  gloom. 
Our  children  were  sad,  and  whenever  one  of  them 
mentioned  the  name,  death  or  burial  of  our  little  The- 
ophilus,  it  was  like  a  dagger  to  my  soul ;  I  could  not 
bear  to  hear  them  talk  about  the  child.  I  could  not 
remain  in  the  presence  of  my  family  long  if  they 
talked  about  the  cliild,forI  felt  that  in  some  mysterious 
way  its  blood  would  be  required  at  my  hands. 

I  remained  about  home  for  a  few  days,  feeling  all 
the  time  that  I  was  gradually  wearing  out  the  lives  of 
my  poor  wife  and  children.  I  have  no  doubt  that  I 
experienced  some  of  the  feelings  of  a  murderer  who  is 
trying  to  escape  from  justice,  and  the  judgments  of 
heaven  are  overtaking  him;  the  mark  of  Cain  isupon 
him;  his  countenance  has  fallen,  and  a  vagabond  and 
fugitive  stare  him  in  the  face  wherever  he  goes;  in 


202  The  Life  and  Times  of 

vain  he  tries  to  hide  his  guilt,  for  the  justice  of  God 
will  find  him  out. 

I  would  often  become  so  restless  and  uneasy  that  I 
would  leave  home  in  the  morning  and  wander  through 
the  woods,  up  and  down  creeks  and  branches  till 
night,  and  then  return  home,  feeling  as  mean  as  any 
person  can  feel  under  any  circumstances.  I  would  be 
ashamed  to  meet  my  wife  and  children  ;  I  would  re- 
solve never  to  do  so  any  more;  but  I  would  soon  find 
myself  pursuing  the  same  course. 

When  I  became  very  troublesome  to  my  wife  and 
children,  ray  friends  would  come  and  get  me  off  home 
with  them  to  stay  a  few  days.  I  would  soon  become 
weary,  and  wander  off  from  them,  and  sometimes  give 
them  no  little  trouble  in  looking  me  up.  When  this 
was  the  case  they  would  either  carry  me  home  or  get 
me  off  somewhere  else.  I  would  sometimes  go  with 
my  brother,  or  a  friend,  to  his  field  and  help  him  work 
awhile,  but  my  presence  was  always  irksome,  because 
I  would  have  nothing  to  say. 

Thus  the  state  of  things  moved  on  with  me  during 
the  summer  of  1863  I  took  one  trip  up  to  brother 
Wesley  Marcom's,  near  Morrisville,  Wake  county. 
After  staying  with  him  and  some  of  his  neighbors 
about  a  week,  he  brought  me  home  to  my  wife  and 
family. 

The  war  was  raging,  and  many  of  the  young  men 
of  the  country  were  going  off  as  volunteers  in  the  ser- 
vice. I  had  quit  reading  books,  and  was  not  disposed 
to  read  anything  but  war  news.  My  friends,  finding 
that  I  would  read  the  news  of  the  day,  kept  me  well 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  203 

supplied  with  newspapers,  and  in  this  way  I  was 
pretty  well  posted  on  the  progress  of  the  war,  as  stated 
in  the  papers.  As  miserable  and  wretched  as  I  was, 
and  had  been  from  the  commencement  of  the  war,  I 
had  my  notions  about  things  as  well  as  others.  I  was 
opposed  to  secession  at  first,  and  continued  so  till  Lin- 
coln's proclamation  calling  on  the  State  of  North  Car- 
olina for  troops  to  help  put  down  the  rebellion.  When 
that  came  out,  I  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  seeing 
Southern  men  taking  up  arms  against  their  own  peo- 
ple. The  idea  of  fighting  and  killing  our  own  neigh- 
bors  and  kindred  w^as  revolting  to  reason  and  com- 
mon sense.  I  did  not,  however,  have  anything  to  say 
about  it,  unless  I  was  interrogated,  which  was  very  ofien 
tlie  case.  I  had  believed  ail  the  time  thafas  Abraham 
Lincoln  had  been  elected  by  a  constitutional  majority 
of  the  people  of  the  United  States,  it  was  the  plain 
duty  of  all  to  try  him,  and  to  show  no  signs  of  re- 
sistance, unless  he  did  plainly  and  culpably  violate 
his  oath  of  ofiice,  to  "  abide  by  and  support  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States,"  and  I  looked  upon 
every  movement  in  opposition  to  that  as  being  revo- 
lutionary. But  as  before  remarked,  I  had  nothing  to 
say  about  these  things,  unless  I  was  interrogated,  for  I 
felt  that  I  had  no  personal  or  individual  concern  in  it. 

4. 

I  took  no  part  in  voting,  or  even  going  to  an  election  ; 
and  so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  it  mattered  little  how 
things  w^ent  on,  or  how  they  terminated,  for  I  was  un- 
done anyway,  and  nothing  that  might  come  to  pass  in 
consequence  of  the  war  would  alter  my  case  in  any 
shape  or  form.     In  my  own  estimation  I  was  already 


20d  The  Life  and  Times  of 

ruined,  both  for  time  and  eternity,  and  I  cared  but 
little  what  course  things  took,  so  far  as  I  was  con- 
cerned. But  notwithstanding  all  this  indifference 
about  myself,  I  had  some  natural  feelings  for  others. 
I  was  sorry  to  hear  of  the  death  of  so  many  on  the 
battle  field,  and  of  the  bloodshed  and  carnage  of  war. 
I  would  often  think  that  I  was  in  part  the  cause  of  it, 
from  the  fact  that  I  considered  myself  a  bond  servant 
of  the  devil,  and  I  considered  this  war  a  part  of  his 
dirty  work.  I  was  sorry  to  hear  of  so  many  of  the 
young  men  of  our  neighborhood  going  off  in  volun- 
teer companies.  I  would  never  go  to  their  festivals, 
to  see  them  marching  off,  and  bidding  adieu  to  rela- 
tives, friends  and  loved  ones,  for  I  felt  that  they  were 
like' lambs  go-ing  to  the  slaughter  to  be  butchered  up, 
in  order  to  gratify  the  appetites  of  blood-thirsty  men. 
I  said  nothing  about  these  things  then,  only  when 
questioned. 

At  last  the  time  arrived  when  my  oldest  brother, 
Calvin  Olive,  the  only  unmarried  brother  I  had,  and 
who  had  taken  such  a  lively  interest  in  my  welfare, 
began  to  speak  of  volunteering  for  the  war.  He 
had  been  a  strong  secessionist  in  principle  from  the 
commencement  of  the  war,  but  owing  to  the  fact  that 
all  my  mother's  children  had  married  and  left  her  but 
him,  he  had  considered  it  his  duty  to  stay  and  take 
care  of  his  aged  mother  till  now.  The  time  had  come 
for  men  to  begin  to  act  out  their  principles.  My 
brother  Calvin  was  an  honest  man,  though  he  and 
I  had  differed  in  our  political  sentiments  all  the 
time.  We  had  also  differed  in  our  notions  and  senti- 
ments about  the  w^ar,  and  we  sometimes  talked  about 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  205 

these  things.  But  he  being  an  honest  man  and  a 
brave  uaan,  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  staying  at  home, 
and  paying  his  money  freely  to  others  to  face  cannon, 
and  he  himself  stay,  at  home,  under  the  plea  of  neces- 
sity, to  take  care  of  his  mother.  He  could  not  bear 
tha  idea  of  being  told  that  he  was  an  advocate  of  the 
war,  but  it  was  only  to  get  others  to  go,  while  he  him- 
self would  stay  at  home,  under  the  plea  of  taking  care 
of  his  old  mother,  when  at  the  same  time  his  object 
was  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  danger,  and  stay  at 
home  and  make  money.  He  told  me  these  things,  and 
said  he  must  go.  I  raised  objections  ;  told  him  that  I 
did  not  know  what  I  should  do  if  he  left,  for  he  was 
one  of  my  strongest  friends.  I  also  told  him  that  I 
thought  he  ought  to  stay  at  home  as  long  as  he  could, 
for  the  sake  of  his  dear  old  mother.  He  replied  to  me 
that  he  was  actuated  in  this  thing  from  a  sense  of  duty 
to  his  country,  and  that  he  should  go,  and  leave  the 
result  with  God.  I  had  regretted  to  hear  of  many  per- 
sons leaving  before,  but  this  was  the  heaviest  blow  on 
.that  subject  yet.  He  soon  joined  the  company,  and 
after  making  the  necessary  arrangements  and  prepa- 
raions  he  went  into  the  service. 

My  brother-in-law,  Thomas  J.  Hunter,  volunteered 
soon  after  the  commencement  of  the  war,  and  now 
another  one,  Jackson  Hunter,  who  married  my  own 
sister,  was  also  making  arrangements  to  go  into  the 
war,  and  leave  his  wife  and  little  children  to  get  on  as 
they  could. 

All  these  things,  in  addition  to  my  mental  sufifer- 
ings,  helped  to  crush  my  spirit  still  lower.     I  felt  that 


206  The  Life  and  Times  of 

in  one  way  or  another  I  should  be  deprived  of  all  my 
friends,  and  then  die  a  miserable  death,  unregretted 
and  unmourned  by  any.  I  would  frequently  wish 
that  I  had  succeeded  in  taking  my  w;  etched  life  when 
I  was  seeking  to  do  so.  I  would  say  to  myself:  "  It 
would  have  been  much  better  for  me,  and  for  all  con- 
cerned. I  am  growing  worse  and  worse  every  day,  and 
I  am  such  a  torment  to  my  relatives  and  friends  that 
life  is  not  very  desirable  to  them,  and  therefore  they 
have  no  difficulty  in  getting  the  consent  of  their 
minds  to  go  into  the  war,  for  they  would  about  as  soon 
die  as  to  live  and  be  tormented  by  me. 


CHAPTER  XV.  ^ 

With  the  last  chapter  the  subject  of  this  memoir 
closed  his  writings  on  the  topic  of  this  work. 

The  causes  for  this  liave  been  mentioned  in  the  in- 
troductory. The  outlay  necessary  to  have  the  work 
published,  and  the  general  depressed  condition  of  the 
country  at  the  time,  (1866  and  1867,)  with  his  own 
limited  means,  are  the  reasons.  At  this  point  the 
reader  is  no  doubt  filled  with  sympathy  and  sorrow 
for  the  afflicted  man.  So  ra{)idly  had  he  arisen  from 
the  little  farm  boy,  faithful  and  obedient  to  his  parents, 
affectionate  and  kind  to  liis  brothers  and  sisters,  and 
genial  to  all,  to  the  youth  of  twenty  or  twenty-two 
years,  taking  a  noble  and  worthy  stand  in  school,  in 
society,  in  church,  in  the  neighborhood   prayer  meet- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  207 

ing  prompt  and  active — everywhere,  exhibiting  a  de- 
gree of  zeal,  of  earnestness,  of  spirituality  and  decision 
of  character  whichpointed  with  the  force  of  the  index 
hand  to  the  part  he  was  to  act  in  life.  How  the  bosom 
swells  with  emotion  when  we  behold  him  in  the  re- 
vival meeting  but  a  timid  youth  ;  time  and  time  again 
the  aged  minister,  exhausted  with  labor,  calls  upon 
his  brethren  to  know  if  there  is  not  one  man  at  least 
in  the  congregation  who  will  help  him  to  pray  for 
mourning  souls.  There  sat  many  who  had  long  had 
their  names  enrolled  upon  the  church  book,  who  would 
perhaps  boast  of  the  years  they  had  been  in  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  of  their  faithfulness  to  attend  conference 
days  and  other  religious  occasions,  opening  not  their 
mouths. 

It  was  not  the  custom  of  those  days  with  the  aver- 
age church  member  to  be  very  active  and  take  part  in 
religious  exercises.  The  aged  man  fixes  his  pitiful  eye 
upon  a  modest  looking  youth  down  the  aisle,  address- 
ing him  by  name,  says :  "  Brother  Olive,  won't  you 
pray  for  these  penitents?" 

It  was  not  his  nature  to  resist  duty  when  he  felt  it 
impressed  upon  him.  He  falls  upon  his  knees  and 
pours  out  his  soul  to  God  in  behalf  of  saint  and  sin- 
ner. The  earnestness  of  this  youthful  effort  can  well 
be  imagined,  and  when  we  are  told  of  the  feeling 
awakened  we  are  not  surprised.  When  we  follow  him 
on  through  his  efforts  to  obtain  an  education,  and  wit- 
ness the  sacrifices  he  made,  against  the  opinion  of 
many  of  his  friends  and  acquaintances;  not  that  he 
might  make  preparation  for  the  ministry,  for  his  aim 


208  The  Life  and  Times  of 

was  only  to  fit  himself  for  the  duties  of  an  active  citi- 
zen. When  we  witness  such  demonstrations,  we  are 
led  to  the  truths  that  "  A  man's  heart  deviseth  his 
way,  but  the  Lord  directeth  his  step."  He  ever  be- 
lieved in  a  Divine  call  to  the  ministry,  and  not  until 
this  duty  rested  upon  him  with  great  weight  did  he 
enter  the  work. 

For  five  years  we  see  him  as  a  licentiate,  most  of 
his  Sabbaths  filled  with  appointments,  and  a  portion 
of  his  time  serving  as  pastor  of  some  churches,  unwil- 
ling to  travel  faster  than  he  had  strength.  He  did  not 
consent  to  ordination  till  1847.  From  this  time  to 
1860,  a  period  of  thirteen  years,  we  see  him  a  most 
active  and  successful  preacher  and  pastor,  laboring 
mainly  within  a  circle  of  twenty-five  miles  around  his 
home. 

During  this  entire  time  he  had  four  regular  charges, 
preached  many  funerals  on  fifth  Sundays  and  during 
the  week,  performed  the  marriage  ceremony  on  many 
occasions,  and  paid  a  great  many  family  visits  among 
his  friends  and  congregations,  enjoying  as  high  a  de- 
gree of  love  and  confidence  among  his  acquaintances 
as  perhaps  any  man  ever  did  or  ever  will.  Amidst 
such  success  he  was  not  vain  or  over  self-confident. 

No  man  ever  bore  success  and  prosperity  better.  His 
estimate  of  the  things  of  this  life  was  not  improperly 
formed.  He  appeared  to  be  reconciled  to  the  provi- 
dences of  God,  and  taught  his  brethren  to  so  live.  See- 
ing his  labors  highly  blessed,  and  having  witnessed 
in  some  degree  the  fulfillment  of  his  youthful  desires, 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  209 

to  be  useful  in  his  day  and  generation,  his  life  during 
this  period  indicated  much  real  happiness. 

To  those  who  were  old  enough  to  recollect,  a  period 
just  before  the  war  between  the  States  was  noted  for 
religious  revivals  throughout  many  States  of  the 
Union.  Many  people  have  since  regarded  this  as  one 
of  the  special  providences  of  God  in  offering  salvation 
to  those  who  were  so  soon  to  lie  slain  in  war.  Many 
who  read  this  book  will  recollect  the  efforts  of  Johnson 
Olive  during  this  season  of  revivals.  He  became  fully 
imbued  with  the  revival  spirit.  He  was  in  the  full 
bloom  of  manhood,  forty-two  years  of  age,  at  the  ze- 
nith of  his  intellectual  faculties.  His  voice  was  strong, 
musical  and  clear.  The  universal  confidence  he  en- 
joyed gave  him  great  advantage  in  his  work.  He 
preached  with  a  power  seldom  equalled  and  rarely 
surpassed  for  good  effect.  We  ourselves  were  young, 
yet  some  of  the  scenes  were  so  indellibly  engraven 
upon  our  mind  that  time  will  never  efface  them.  We 
see  him  now  as  he  is  closing  his  discourse,  descending 
from  the  stand,  his  countenance  all  aglow  with  earn- 
estness, love  and  tenderness;  his  voice  reaching  its 
highest  key  becomes  slightly  musical.  As  he  treats  of 
sin,  righteousness,  and  a  judgment  to  cyme,  and  holds 
up  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin  and  a  mediator  for  man  the 
crucified  Lord,  every  heart  becomes  softened,  sinners 
go  by  tens  and  by  scores  to  the  anxious  seat ;  Chris- 
tians become  aroused  ;  fear  and  shame  are  lost,  and 
all  in  some  way  join  in  the  work. 

It  was  not  unusual  to  continue  these  meetings  for 
two  weeks  or  more.     Sometimes  from  forty  to  sixty 


210  The  Life  and  Times  of 

penitents  were  seen  in  the  altar  at  a  time.  Ten  to 
fifteen  conversions  would  occur  during  some  days.  At 
the  close  of  the  meetings,  or  soon  thereafter,  great 
numbers  would  unite  with  the  church  and  go  down 
into  the  water  to   be   buried  with  Christ  in    baptism. 

There  may  be  something  of  youthful  fancy  con- 
nected with  those  times.  Paternal  affection  may  make 
the  work  appear  more  grand,  but  to  me  these  have 
ever  been  regarded  as  gracious  seasons,  the  like  of 
which  I  have  not  since  witnessed. 

We  have  in  mind  many  who  perished  in  battle  far 
away  from  home  and  earthly  friends,  whose  conver- 
sion and  baptism  we  witnessed.  The  lives  of  many 
others  were  spared,  and  they  have  grown  up  to  be 
men  and  women  of  great  usefulness  in  the  church  and 
in  society. 

Who  then  could  think  that  in  so  short  a  time  they 
could  see  one  whose  life  had  been  so  signally  blessed, 
in  the  sloughs  of  despond,  and  in  the  dungeons  of  de- 
spair, asking :  "  Where  shall  I  find  the  face  of  my 
God,  and  realize  again  His  supporting  grace?" 

We  need  not  in  this  introductory  to  his  subsequent 
life,  rehearse  this  portion  of  his  life,  as  by  far  the 
greater  portions  of  his  own  writings  are  devoted  to 
this  period  of  time,  wherein  he  has  dealt  frankly  with 
the  reader,  and  honest  between  himself  and  his  God, 
giving  a  minute  account  of  his  trials  and  temptations 
through  this  dark  period.  We  therefore  leave  the 
reader  to  ponder  and  decide  for  himself  or  herself  as 
to  his   true  condition,  its  causes,  its  designs,  and   its 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  211 

effects.  Suffice  it  to  say,  no  one  can  ever  know  what 
bis  sufferings  were. 

Those  of  us  who  saw  him  and  were  much  with  him, 
have  but  a  faint  idea  of  what  they  really  were.  He 
was  certainly  a  most  miserable  man.  The  spiritual 
part  of  this  man,  which  had  but  recently  shined  so 
brilliantly,  now  lay  dormant. 

It  has  been  a  matter  of  ^reat  rejoicing  that  this  soul 
was  not  continued  in  darkness,  and  that  he  was  again 
permitted  to  see  and  feel  the  light  of  God's  counte- 
nance. We  are  truly  glad  that  he  lived  to  see  these 
dark  clouds  all  disperse,  and  to  return  to  his  chosen 
work,  and  spend  twenty  years  more  of  active  life  in 
the  ministry,  wherein  he  shewed  much  ripeness  and 
mellowness  of  soul. 

"  Be  still  sad  heart  and  cease  repining, 
Behind  the  cloud  the  sun's  still  shining." 


CHAPTER  XVI.  ^ 

We  are  pleased  to  be  able  to  follow  him  out  of  the 
dark  and  dreary  way  and  see  him  again  cheerful, 
hopeful  and  happy,  laboring  with  a  zeal  and  earnest- 
ness rarely  witnessed  in  one  of  his  age. 

We  now  proceed  to  take  up  the  subject  where  father 
left  off,  and  follow  him  briefly  through  the  remaining 
twenty-two  years  of  his  life.  As  stated  by  him,  the 
the  first  evidences  of  this  strange  condition  began  to 


212  The  Life  and  Times  of 

show  themselves  in  1860.  In  the  early  part  of  1861, 
at  the  solicitation  of  friends  and  relatives,  the  family 
moved  temporarily  to  the  western  part  of  Wake  county, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  his  relatives  and  life  long  ac- 
quaintances. Finding  these  associations  to  afford  lit- 
tle or  no  relief,  the  advantages  of  living  at  their  own 
home  led  to  a  return  in  1862,  to  the  south-western 
portion  of  the  county,  where  they  had  located  in  1859. 

The  return  to  his  former  home  was  apparently  at- 
tended [with  good  results  to  father.  He  was  not  so 
much  in  company,  was  not  asked  so  many  questions, 
did  not  see  so  many  places  and  faces  to  remind  him 
of  the  past,  and  consequently  became  more  quiet,  yet 
he  was  far  from  being  natural  in  either  appearance  or 
manners.  He  bore  about  him  all  this  while  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  lost,  ruined,  undone  man.  He  took 
some  interest  in  farm  work,  and  in  domestic  affairs. 
His  advice,  directions  and  instructions  were  as  good 
as  ever.  He  showed  very  little  inclination  to  talk,  but 
read  secular  papers  and  war  news  with  great  eager- 
ness, as  he  did  also  letters  addressed  to  himself  or 
members  of  his  family  from  relatives  and  friends  then 
in  the  army.  His  recovery  was  so  gradual  that  it  is 
hard  to  tell  where  it  began  or  at  what  time  he  was 
fully  restored. 

During  the  year  1863  he  appeared  like  one  becom- 
ing reconciled  to  his  doom ;  he  was  more  natural  and 
better  composed  than  he  had  been,  still  insisting,  how- 
ever, that  he  was  an  unregenerated  man — a  stranger 
to  grace,  having  the  form  of  godliness,  but  not  the 
spirit.     He  never  for  a  moment  felt  that  he  had  done 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  213 

so  willfully  or  maliciously,  but  through  mistake.  He 
often  expressed  it  that  he  had  "  caught  at  the  substance, 
missing  it,  had  caught  the  shadow."  Hope  was  gone, 
faith  as  to  his  one  chance  for  salvation  was  dead — the 
face  of  God  was  hidden  ;  the  heavens  above  were 
covered  over  as  brass,  and  no  where  could  he  find  God. 
He  desired  to  repent,  turn  to  and  follow  God,  but 
every  avenue  was  to  him  closed.  He  did  not  question 
the  goodness  and  power  of  Jehovah ;  he  should  have 
been  more  particular  in  weighing  the  impressions  he 
had,  that  while  he  had  acted  innocently  it  was  an 
awful  mistake,  and  carried  with  it  such  terrible  conse- 
quences— fifteen  or  twenty  years  of  false  service — and 
the  more  to  be  deplored  because  of  the  success  of  that 
course,  and  the  great  numbers  that  had  been  deceived 
thereby. 

These  were  some  of  his  calm,  cool  and  deliberate 
reasonings  during  the  period  of  his  gradual  improve- 
ment. Nothing  could  be  said  to  give  him  relief.  In 
truth,  he  was  rather  too  well  posted  for  those  who  un- 
dertook to  talk  with  and  console  him.  He  had  almost 
every  occurrence  and  circumstance  in  the  Bible  bear- 
ing upon  what  he  held  to  be  his  case,  as  familiar  as 
the  alphabet.  And  thus  many  who  came  to  see  him, 
hearing  that  he  was  insane,  would  return  saying, 
*' crazy!  he  has  too  much  sense — more  than  he  ever 
had.  He  has  done  nothing  for  the  past  two  or  three 
years  but  study,  and  he  knows  it  all.^' 

We  were  sometimes  astonished  during  this  period 
of  time  to  know  how  well  he  was  posted  upon  the 
events  of  the  war  then  going  on,  even   from  its  begin- 


214  The  Life  and  Times  of 

ning  down  to  the  time.  At  times  he  would  momen- 
tarily lose  sight  of  his  own  case,  and  talk  with  some 
degree  of  freedom  upon  war  topics,  but  as  soon  as  he 
came  to  a  close  of  what  he  had  to  say,  his  countenance 
grew  sad,  he  would  heave  a  deep  sigh,  and  show  signs 
of  trouble  in  his  soul. 

It  was  during  this  year  (1863),  that  his  eldest  son,  J. 
A.  Olive,  aged  about  eighteen  years,  died.  From  his 
childhood  he  had  been  what  is  usually  termed. a  rude 
boy.  Many  who  will  read  this  book  will  well  remem- 
ber him  and  some  of  his  early  traits  of  character,  not 
mean,  vulgar  or  low,  but  appeared  to  think  he  had 
come  into  this  world  to  have  a  good  time.  Afflicted 
children  and  such  boys  as  he,  always  draw  from  their 
parents  an  unusual  amount  of  care,  solicitation  and 
concern  ;  consequently,  we  sometimes  conclude  they 
naturally  have  a  more  tender  feeling  towards  them. 

As  this  son  grew  older  he  made  a  profession  of  re- 
ligion, connected  himself  with  the  church,  and  soon 
began  to  show  signs  of  usefulness  in  life.  Up  to  this 
time  he  had  been  quite  robust  and  active,  but  during 
this  year  severe  pains  in  the  legs  and  back  began  to 
trouble  him.  Late  in  the  fall  he  ceased  to  gO  from 
home  in  consequence  of  weakness.  His  health  con- 
tinued to  decline,  till  at  length  he  took  to  bed.  Father 
had  watched  his  case  with  deep  solicitude,  had  done 
for  him  all  that  physic  and  good  attention  could  pos- 
sibly do,  all  without  material  effect. 

At  last  it  became  evident  the  son  must  die.  The 
evening  of  his  death  will  long  be  remembered  by  those 
present.     It  was  on  a  cold  December  day,  the  sun  fast 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  215 

lowering  behind  the  western  horizon,  the  father, 
mother,  brothens  and  sister,  with  a  few  neighbors,  were 
gathered  about  the  bed  of  the  sick  young  man.  Life 
is  fast  ebbing  away;  he  realizes  he  is  dying;  with 
some  feeling,  but  much  deliberation,  he  holds  out  his 
hand  and  begins  to  utter  the  solemn  words,  "  good- 
bye, good  bye,"  first  to  his  parents,  then  to  brothers, 
sisters  and  friends — "good-bye — I  am  gone — meet  me 
in  heaven."  He  then  requested  all  to  pray  for  him  ; 
turning  h's  dying  eyes  to  his  father  with  an  expres- 
sion of  deep  earnestness,  says  "Father,  pray  for  me — 
pray  for  me." 

I  had  never  before  so  fully  realized  what  was  the 
true  state  of  father's  soul  during  this  period.  Father's 
face  bore  the  deepest  expressions  of  agony,  yet  it  was 
fixed  and  unmoved  ;  no  occasion  was  more  calculated 
to  awaken  sympathy  for  the  afflicted  father  than  this. 
He  was  sitting  with  his  body  slightly  turned  from  the 
face  of  his  dying  boy,  his  head  slightly  inclined,  his 
eyes  resting  upon  the  floor,  gave  a  hesitating  nod, 
lowered  his  head  to  his  hand,  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and 
remained  in  this  position  for  some  time.  What  his 
feelings  were  he  never  told  ;  they  were  surely  horri- 
ble. The  dying  son  then  calls  to  him  a  younger 
brother,  embraces  him  and  bids  him  be  a  good  boy, 
love  and  obey  his  mother,  and  in  a  few  moments  his 
spirit  took  its  flight  from  the  body,  and  there  lay  be- 
fore us  the  lifeless  form. 

The  father  bore  this  bereavement  with  apparent  res- 
ignation ;  gave  directions  as  to  his  burial,  funeral,  &c. 
On  the  arrival  of  the  minister  he  gave  instructions  to 


216  The  Life  and  Times  of 

a  son  to  place  a  table,  a  Bible  and  some  water  in  order 
near  the  door  for  the  preacher.  This  the  son  readily 
did,  feeling  that  his  father  ought  to  know  what  kind 
of  conveniences  and  comforts  were  necessary  on  funeral 
occasions. 

The  Rev.  P.  W.  Dowd  was  invited,  by  suggestions  of 
the  father,  to  preach  the  funeral  sermon.  Sickness 
having  prevented  his  attendance,  Rev.  J.  W.  F.  Rogers, 
by  request,  at  the  appointed  hour,  proceeded  to  per- 
form this  service.  His  acquaintance  with  the  deceased 
youth  from  childhood,  being  present  on  the  occasion 
of  his  professing  faith  in  Christ,  and  the  resignation 
with  which  he  bore  his  afflictions,  as  signified  by  quo- 
tations from  the  Word  of  God,  furnished  the  minister 
topics  for  some  very  cheering  and  consoling  thoughts. 

Afflictions,  though  they  seem  severe,  often  carry  in 
their  wake  blessings  in  disguise.  We  believe  it  was 
so  here.  Three  children  had  died  within  the  space  of 
about  three  years.  An  infant  son,  a  daughter,  and  the 
young  man  of  whom  we  have  been  writing.  For  all 
of  them  the  father  entertained  the  brightest  hopes  of 
heavenly  joy.  The  death  of  his  daughter,  and  the 
scenes  of  her  last  hours  w^ere  yet  fresh  in  his  memory. 
How  different  were  his  feelings  on  that  occasion  from 
what  they  were  upon  the  present!  He  well  remem- 
bered it.  It  was  at  night,  the  younger  members  of  the 
family  had  retired,  when  death  made  its  approach; 
a  message  is  sent  to  their  rooms  saying:  ''Sarah  is 
dying;  come  and  see  her  for  the  last  time."  On  reach- 
ing her  bedside  she  had  her  hands  uplifted  in  a  state 
of  rejoicing,    bidding    those    who    stood    around    to 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  /     217 

"Look!  look!  Oh!  look!!"  her  father  and  mother 
close  by  her  side.  Turning  to  her  father  she  said  in 
tender  accents:  "Pa,  come  and  go  with  me."  How 
beautifully  were  these  words  uttered  !  And  how  sweet 
was  the  reply  :  *'  Dear  daughter,  pa  cannot  go  with 
you  now,  but  he  will  soon  come — yes,  pa  will  soon 
come  to  join  you.  Sarah,  lean  upon  the  strong  arm 
of  your  Heavenly  Father;  trust  your  Saviour;  He 
has  promised  to  be  with  you  in  every  trial,  and  in  the 
last  and  trying  hour  of  death  not  to  forsake  you." 

A  pleasant  smile  lit  up  her  face;  and  with  her  eyes 
directed  heavenward  she  quietly  drew  her  expiring 
breath. 

The  deep  anguish  of  soul  which  had  previously 
manifested  itself  while  meditating  upon  or  talking  of 
his  own  spiritual  state  had  by  this  time  greatly  abated. 
He  spoke  deliberately  and  calmly  of  his  case,*desired 
above  everything  else  to  be  a  godly  man,  loved  that 
which  was  pure  and  holy,  and  condemned  that  which 
was  evil.  He  sometimes  spoke  of  his  deceased  chil- 
dren with  tenderness  and  affection.  He  was  glad  of 
the  assurance  he  had  that  they  had  gone  to  a  better 
world  than  this.  It  softened  his  heart  much  to  think 
upon  this  subject  and  we  might  justly  conclude  that 
here  the  first  rays  of  light  began  to  enter  the  dark 
chambers  of  this  wretched  soul,  yet  he  was  still  with- 
out hope  and  felt  that  had  God  taken  him  instead  of 
his  children  that  he  should  have  been  eternally  lost. 

1864  found  him  thus  situated.  He  read  papers,  let- 
ters, &c.,  but  was  rarely  ever  seen  with  a  book.  We 
have  no  evidence  that  he  had  read  a  single  verse  in 
10 


218  The  Life  and  Times  of 

the  Bible  since  the  first  year  of  his  afflictions.  We 
feel  warranted  in  saying  he  had  not  many  times  at- 
tempted to  engage  in  secret  prayer  for  a  period  of 
nearly  three  years.  He  described  these  efforts  as  being 
without  unction  of  soul,  and  every  avenue  to  his  God 
closed — he  had  been  cut  off  from  all  communion  with 
God.  There  were  evidences  that  during  this  period  he 
sometimes  tried  to  engage  in  secret  prayer,  but  with 
very  little  satisfaction  or  relief.  He  spent  most  of  the 
time  in  the  early  part  of  this  year  aiding  and  direct- 
ing in  his  farm  work.  Sometimes  working  for  hours 
in  perfect  silence,  seemingly  unmindful  of  the  hard- 
ships he  endured,  manifesting  but  little  concern  about 
water  or  diet.  Always  possessed  of  a  wiry  constitu- 
tion and  great  powers  of  endurance,  he  now  appears 
to  possess  a  double  portion  of  these  gifts.  Work, 
manual  labor,!  brought  temporary  relief  to  his  troubled 
soul,  and  when  temporary  alleviation  can  be  obtained 
all  the  powers  rebound  and  gain  strength. 

It  proved  so  in  this  case,  and  each  week  showed  im- 
provement from  the  various  influences  now  at  work. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  219 


CHAPTER  XVII.i/ 

It  was  during  this  year  that  the  great  battles  around 
Petersburg,  Va.,  were  fought  between  the  armies  of  the 
Union  and  the  Confederacy.  In  one  of  these  engage- 
ments his  brother,  Calvin  Olive,  of  whomhe  has  made 
mention,  was  mortally  wounded.  News  came  to  him 
very  soon  of  this  occurrence,  and  as  there  were  few 
men  now  at  home,  his  relatives,  among  others  his 
mother,  was  anxious  that  he  should  go  to  see  his  dying 
brother.  He  offered  very  little  resistance,  but  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements, 
and  in  a  short  time  was  off  for  Petersburg. 

On  reaching  the  city,  he  soon  met  with  a  number  of 
acquaintances  among  the  soldiers,  many  of  whom  had 
heard  him  preach  in  former  days,  and  some  who  had 
dated  their  hopes  of  eternal  life  to  occasions  inti- 
mately connected  with  his  past  history.  He  was  fa- 
miliar with  the  lives  of  many  who  called  to  see  him. 
His  acquaintances  everywhere  had  heard  of  his 
troubles.  His  presence  in  the  camp  was  a  great  sur- 
prise, and  all  who  knew  him  wished  to  see  him.  Much 
gladness  was  manifested  on  the  part  of  his  acquaint- 
ances in  camp  at  his  recovery.  They  soon  saw,  how- 
ever, that  all  was  not  well.  He  knew  his  business  as 
well  as  any  one,  knew  for  what  he  had  come.  No  de- 
ficiency in  hi&  conduct  indicated,  y^  he  looks  sad, 
his  features  appear  fixed  and  unchanged,  he  talks 
readily,  is  very  well  informed  upon  both  home  and 
army  matters,  but  he  is  not  the  cheerful,  hopeful  man 


220  The  Life  and  Times  of 

we  once«  met.     He   makes   enquiry  for  his  wounded 
brother,  and  finds  such  confusion  now  existing  in  con- 
sequence of  the  recent  heavy  engagements  of  the  two 
armies  that  it  is  with  difficulty  that  he  can  learn  any- 
thing definite  about  him,  further  than  that  he 'was  con- 
sidered nfortally  wounded  in  the  engagement  a  few  days 
before.     In  company  with  some  of  his  soldier  friends 
he  searches  some  of  the  burial  gi'ounds  of  the  hospitals 
where  he  was  supposed  to  have  been  carried.    Finding 
no  trace  of  him,  he  decides  to  spend   the  night  here 
and  make  renewed  search  on  the  morrow.    He  is  asked 
by  some  of  his  acquaintances  if  he  cannot  preach  in 
the  camp  at  night;  with  an  expression  of  deep  solem- 
nity he  replies:  "I  could   preach,  but  I   don't  think 
you  will  ever  hear  me  preach  again." 

He  learns  on  more  diligent  enquiry  at  the  Brigade 
Hospital  next  day  that  his  brother  had  been  trans- 
ferred to  Winder  Hospital,  Richm  nd,  Va.  He  is  soon 
on  board  the  train  to  this  point,  reaches  there  in  due 
time,  and  soon  finds  his  wounded  brother.  His  arrival 
was  unexpected  to  his  brother,  and  doubtless  no  one 
on  earth,  save  his  mother,  could  have  been  a  more 
welcomed  visitor.  Having  placed  his  life  upon  the 
altar  of  his  country  to  be  sacrificed  for  her  honor,  if 
need  be,  he  had  passed  through  two  years  or  more  of 
hard  service,  such  as  is  experienced  by  the  soldier  who 
never  seeks  to  shirk  or  evade  a  duty,  however  trivial, 
or  however  arduous,  which  had  accustomed  bim  to 
sights  of  suffering  and  pain.  So  often  upon  the  field 
of  battle,  amid  the  roar  of  cannon  and  rattle  of  mus- 
ketry had  he  heard  the  shriek  and  moans  of  his  com- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  221 

rades,  that  he  was  prepared  to  meet  this  ordeal  with  a 
degree  of  courage  and  fortitude  truly  remarkable. 

He  makes  many  anxious  enquiries  about  friends 
and  loved  ones  at  home,  and  tells  his  visiting  brother 
that  he  shall  never  meet  them  again;  that  he  is  fast 
dying,  but  that  he  could  die  freely  and  willingly  ;  that 
he  was  dying  in  defence  of  his  country,  in  a  cause  that 
he  had  ever  thought  just. 

Whether  introduced  by  father  or  no  I  cannot  say  ; 
however,  the  conversation  now  turned  upon  his  spir- 
itual condition,  his  hopes  beyond  the  Jordan  of  death. 
The  dying  brother  stated  that  the  way  was  not  as  clear 
as  he  could  wish,  yet  he  felt  no  particular  dread  of 
death,  or  fears  as  to  his  future  state;  the  hope  he  had 
realized  in  former  days  had  not  been  cultivated  as  it 
had  been  his  privilege  to  do,  still  he  had  hope  beyond 
the  grave. 

Father  remained  here  near  one  week,  and  wrote 
some  letters  .home  during  the  time,  giving  the  particu- 
lars of  his  brother's  wound  and  condition  generally. 
Ever  a  good  nurse,  he  did  not  fail  upon  this  occasion 
to  render  every  attention  necessary  for  the  peace  and 
comfort  of  his  dying  brother.  He  continued  to  sink, 
till  at  last  the  soul  took  its  flight  from  the  body. 

The  remains  were  carefully  provided  for  by  the  hos- 
pital authorities,  aided  by  the  surviving  brother,  and 
deposited  in  the  hospital  burying  ground,  with  a  plain 
small  slab  set  up  by  the  brother  to  denote  his  name, 
command,  &c.  He  often  spoke  of  the  kindness  shown 
himself  and  wounded  brother  by  the  authorities  and 
visitors   to   the   hospital    during   his  stay.    Nothing 


222  The  Life  and  Times  op 

passed  his  notice,  and  many  incidents  here  witnessed 
were  often  afterwards  referred  to  in  conversation. 

The  burial  of  his  brotlier  being  over,  father  now 
sets  out  for  home.  At  this  period  of  the  war  travel 
was  attended  with  much  difficulty,  especially  in  going 
from  the  army.  Private  citizens  must  needs  have  a 
pass;  he  goes  to  an  acquaintance  in  a  neighboring 
hospital,  with  whom  he  had  mingled  some  during  his 
stay,  tells  him  the  circumstances,  remarking  to  him 
that  he  knew  his  standing;  he  did  not  wish  to  prac- 
tice any  wrong ;  that  he  had  not  been  preaching  any 
for  about  four  years;  I  may  never  preach  again.  To 
this  his  friend  readily  replied  there  would  be  no  diffi- 
culty about  the  pass. 

Upon  thestatementof  this  friend  the  pass  was  readily 
obtained  and  he  makes  his  way  to  the  railroad  station 
to  take  the  train  for  home. 

I  am  not  a  Freemason.  Father  belonged  to  this 
order.  During  his  affliction  he  had  ceased  to  lay  any 
claim  to  the  privileges  of  the  order.  He  revealed  the 
fact  on  his  return  from  this  trip  that  he  had  met  with 
members  of  this  order,  strangers  to  him,  who  had 
rendered  him  valuable  aid. 

On  reaching  the  station  another  difficulty  confronts 
him.  Railroad  coaches  are  scarce,  and  the  only  one 
he  sees  going  out  on  the  line  he  is  to  travel  has  a 
guard  stationed  at  the  entrance,  who  informs  him  that 
no  one  can  get  on  board  this  car  except  he  is  in  charge 
of  a  lady.  He  has  no  lady  with  him,  and  what  shall 
be  done?  He  saunters  to  an  fro  awhile,  awaiting  de- 
velopments. Soon  he  espies  a  tall,  stout  man  in  soldier's 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  223 

dress,  wearing  about  hiin  the  marks  of  camp  life, 
moving  in  the  direction  of  the  guarded  coach.  He 
thinks  he  has  found  his  man,  and  moves  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  car.  On  approaching  the  same,  he  finds  a 
Georgia  soldier  with  furlough  in  hand  remonstrating 
with  the  guard,  first  gently  then  positively:  "I  have 
been  in  this  war  four  years;  I  have  not  seen  my  people 
during  this  time;  I  have  a  furlough  and  I  am  going 
home,  and  am  going  on  this  train;  I  have  heard  the 
musket  and  the  cannon,  and  I've  smelt  powder,  too 
(with  an  oath) ;  I  know  how  to  behave  myself  in  the 
company  of  ladies  as  well  as  any  body."  Father  draws 
nearer  the  soldier  with  the  furlough  :  "  You  can  open 
this  door  or  I'll  burst  it  down,  I  don't  care  which — 
with  a  look  of  vengeance.'" 

By  this  time  the  door  was  opened,  the  soldier  passed 
in,  and  father  just  after  him.  The  effect  of  the  will 
power  and  decision  manifested  by  this  man  here  and 
the  other  traits  of  character  exhibited  as  they  journeyed 
along  together  in  their  travel,  made  quite  an  impres- 
sion upon  his  accidental  companion  and  beneficiary. 
In  his  after  life,  he  often  alluded  to  the  Georgia  soldier 
he  met  in  Richmond. 


224  The  Life  and  Times  of 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  incidents  of  this  visit  to  the  army  and  to  his 
brother,  viewing  personally  many  things  of  which  he 
had  heard  and  read,  made  vivid  and  lasting  impres- 
sions upon  the  mind  of  father. 

Of  all  that  was  ever  done  nothing  seemed  to  be  at- 
tended with  better  results.  This  more  than  anything 
else  furnished  him  with  a  new  field  of  thought,  and 
those  subjects  of  war,  which  were  the  sum  and  sub- 
stance of  almost  every  conversation,  now  had  new 
luster  bestowed  upon  them. 

He  returned  home  very  much  resigned  to  the  death 
of  his  brother,  and  with  many  interesting  accounts  of 
what  he  had  seen  and  heard.  From  this  time  his  re- 
covefy  was  more  perceptible.  These  occasions  had  the 
effect  to  bring  him  into  more  close  and  intimate  re- 
lation with  the  people,  and  it  was  not  until  the  latter 
part  of  this  year  (1864),  that  life  and  animation  began 
to  reappear  in  his  countenance.  He  talked  now  with 
something  like  the  spirit  and  freedom  that  he  had 
formerly  done;  confidence  and' hope  were  being  grad- 
ually restored.  He  wrote  and  had  published  a  brief 
but  intieresting  account  of  his  brother's  death ;  also 
wrote  and  had  published  about  the  same  time  an  ac- 
count of  the  death  of  J.  B.  S.  Rogers,  a  nephew  of  his 
by  marriage,  who  died  at  Raleigh  of  disease  contracted 
in  the  army.  The  writing  of  these  notices  set  to  work 
powers  of  his  mind  that  had  long  been  dormant; 
sympathy   becomes  quickened.    He  had  from  early 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  225 

life  exhibited  some  poetical  genius.  His  rhyme  was 
not  that  of  a  Milton,  a  Byron  or  a  Pope,  but  often 
glowed  with  beauty  and  knowledge  of  the  inner 
movings  of  the  soul. 

While  teaching  schol  in  former  years  he  sometimes 
prepared  speeches  for  his  students  in  rhyme  that  were 
really  interesting  and  amusing.  Also  his  thoughts 
upon  some  Scripture  subjects  were  sometimes  reduced 
to  rhyme.  We  will  here  introduce  a  few  of  his  poems, 
to  illustrate  what  we  have  just  said,  and  more  espe- 
cially feeling  that  anything  written  by  him  just  at 
this  period  will  be  best  appreciated  here.  The  follow- 
ing was  written  some  years  prior  to  the  war  between 
the  States: 

THE  THIRD  OF  MATTHEW. 
Go  read  the  third  of  Matthew, 

And  read  that  chapter  through. 
It  is  a  guide  to  christians. 

And  tells  them  what  to  do. 

Those  days  came  John  the  Baptist, 

Into  the  wilderness, 
A  preacher  of  the  Gospel 

Of  Jesus  and  His  righteousness. 

Then  out  came  the  Pharisee, 

For  to  baptized  be, 
But  John  forbade  him,  saying, 

*'  Repentance  bring  with  thee; 

Then  I'll  baptize  you  freely. 

When  you  confess  your  sins, 
And  own  your  Lord  and  Master, 

And  tall  how  vile  you've  been." 


226  The  Life  and  Times  op 

When  John  was  preaching  Jesus 
On  that  atoning  land, 

He  saw  the  blessed  Saviour, 
And  said,  "  Behold  the  man  !" 

Appointed  by  the  Father 
To  take  away  your  sins, 

Then  you  believe  in  Jesus, 
And  own  Him  for  your  Kinsf. 

Then  came  our  blessed  Saviour, 

For  to  baptized  be. 
And  was  baptized  in  Jordan, 

The  Scriptures  read  to  me. 

He  came  up  out  of  the  water, 
The  Spirit  from  above 

Descends  and  lights  on  Jesus, 
In  likeness  of  a  dove. 

The  Heavens  they  were  opened, 
As  you  may  plainl^^  see, 

A  witness  to  all  people — 
'Twas  right  that  it  should  be. 

A  voice  from  heaven  proclaiming, 
"  This  is  my  only  Son, 

I  am  well  pleased  with  Jesus 
In  all  that  He  has  done." 

Come  you  that  say  your  Jesus, 
And  prove  you  love  the  Lord, 

By  following  His  example. 
Recorded  in  His  Word. 


Rev.  Johnson   Olive.  227 

Take  up  your  crosses  freely, 
.As  Jesus  did  for  you ; 
I  leave  you  all  with  Jesus, 
And  bid  you  all  adieu. 

The  following  lines  were  written  upon  the  death 
of  his  brother,  Calvin  Olive,  soon  after  his  return 
from  Richmond,  in  1861,  which  has  been  explained 
elsewhere.  As  stated  by  father  heretofore,  he  did  not 
agree  with  his  brother  fully  as.  to  the  course  to  be  pur- 
sued by  the  South,  yet  all  who  knew  Calvin  Olive  re- 
spected his  views  for  honesty  and  sincerity  : 

When  first  secession's  tune  was  played 

It  found  a  lodging  in  his  heart; 
He  to  its  music  reverence  paid, 

And  from  its  truths  did  not  depart. 

'Tis  true  he  heard  another  tune 
Which  sounded  through  his  native  State, 

It  said,  ' '  Secession  is  too  soon, 
The  people  ought  to  watch  and  wait." 

His  mind  was  firm,  his  heart  was  true ; 

How  did  his  noble  nature  burn 
To  see  his  native  State  pursue 

The  painful  lesson  she  did  learn. 

When  Lincoln's  proclamation  first 

Called  out  for  Southern  men  and  means 

To  crush  secession  in  the  dust, 
Or  fill  the  South  with  bloody  scenes, 

'Twas  then  his  eye  was  seen  to  flash ; 

His  heart  lit  up  into  a  flame ; 
He  from  his  peaceful  home  did  dash, 

And  to  his  country  gave  his  name. 


228  The  Life  and  Times  of 

He  said,  "  Secession  is  my  name, 
In  freedom's  land  I  drew  my  breath, 

I'm  ready  to  defend  the  same; 

Give  me  my  rights  or  give  me  death." 

He's  now  done  all  that  he  could  do ; 

He  gave  his  precious  soul  to  God, 
He  lies  amidst  the  brave  and  true, 

Beneath  the  cold  and  silent  clod. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  war  two  noble-hearted  boys 
and  brothers,  living  in  the  city  of  Raleigh,  enlisted  in 
'  the  cause  of  their  country.  They  had  distinguished 
themselves  alike  at  home  and  in  the  camp  for  kind- 
ness and  urbanity.  After  passing  through  many  hard- 
ships, they  both  fell  mortally  wounded  in  the  same 
battle,  from  which  they  soon  died.  So  much  afiPected 
were  their  neighbors,  who  had  received  so  many  acts 
of  kindness  at  their  hands,  over  the  sad  occurrence, 
that  one  of  them  asked  father  to  write  some  lines  of 
verse  suited  to  the  occasion.  These  boys  were  the 
sons  of  M.  B.  Royster. 

Two  brothers  lived  in  Raleigh  town, 

Their  hearts  were  kind  and  true, 
Not  many  boys  could  here  be  found 

To  act  as  they  would  do. 

They  used  to  be  so  very  kind, 

(And  they  were  loving,  too), 
Their  like  I  fear  you'll  never  find. 

Such  friendly  acts  to  do. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  229 

These  brothers  heard  their  country's  call 

For  men  to  meet  the  foe ; 
They  left  their  peaceful  homes  and  all, 

And  to  the  war  did  go. 

They  stood  up  bravely  for  the  cause, 

And  fought  for  victory's  mead, 
(But  let  their  friends  here  stop  and  pause, 
^   It  is  for  them  they  bleed). 

These  brothers  died  of  wounds  received 

Upon  the  battle-field. 
And  many  friendly  hearts  were  grieved 

To  hear  their  fates  were  sealed. 

We  miss  them  here  in  Raleigh  town ; 

With  them  we  used  to  play. 
But  cruel  war  has  mowed  them  down 

Amidst  their  blooming  day. 

For  them  our  tears  were  freely  shed, 

For  them  we  wept  and  grieved; 
Although  for  months  they  have  been  dead 

Our  hearts  are  not  relieved. 

We  sometimes  wish  them  back  again. 

But  know  it  cannot  be. 
For  those  in  cruel  battle  slain 

We  never  more  shall  see. 

They've  now  done  all  that  they  could  do — 

Their  country  tried  to  save ; 
We  kno\V  they  were  both  brave  and  true — 
?hey  fill  a  patriot's  grave. 


X. 


The  death  of  J.  B.  S.  Rogers  fell  with  such  weight 
lapon  his  parents,  especially  his  mother,  all  of  whom 


230  The  Life  and  Times  of 

were  warm  friends  of  father,  that  he  was  moved  to 
write  the  following  lines,  in  the  summer  of  1864: 

"The  following  lines  were  written  for  a  mother  who  lost  a 
son  in  the  army,  and  was  mourning  her  loss.  They  will  fit 
the  case  of  many  others : 

Ye  mothers  of  this  sunny  land 
Admit  me  to  your  mourning  band ; 
Your  hearts  are  grieved,  and  so  are  mine ; 
Where  shall  we  go  relief  to  find  ? 

A  mother's  love  there's  none  can  tell, 
But  you,  dear  sisters,  know  it  well; 
Your  sons  are  slain  and  mine  is  dead, 
Our  peace  and  comfort  now  are  fled. 

I  had  one  only  darling  son, 
(Perhaps  you  might  have  more  than  one), 
Our  hearts  are  rent  and  torn  with  grief; 
Where  shall  we  go  to  find  relief  ? 

My  loving  child,  my  noble  son, 
He  fought  and  many  victories  won ; 
The  cannon  roared,  the  battle  raged, 
And  there  our  boys  were  all  engaged. 

In  deadly  strife  they  met  the  foe, 
And  gave  or  felt  the  fatal  blow ; 
Some  were  left  to  tell  the  tale. 
And  others  found  cold,  dead  and  pale. 

I  stood  beside  my  dying  son 

When  all  his  work  on  earth  was  done ; 

My  heart  was  like  the  troubled  sea, 

I  cried,  "Would  God  I'd  died  for  thee  !" 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  231 

Dear  sisters,  shall  we  ever  rise 
From  sorrow,  grief  and  tearful  eyes  ? 
Can  we  not  look  above  and  find 
Some  mitigation  to  the  mind  ? 

He  was  my  loving,  darling  child; 
His  nature  calm,  his  temper  mild; 
He  lies  beneath  the  silent  clod, 
And  I  must  hope  and  trust  in  God. 

I  long  to  see  the  day  roll  'round 
When  he  shall  rise  up  from  the  ground. 
And  I  again  shall  see  his  face 
In  that  bright  world  of  God's  free  grace. 

And  now  dear  mourning  friends,  adieu, 
I  feel  that  what  I've  said  is  true ; 
Come  raise  your  hearts  in  faithful  prayer 
That  we  may  meet  together  there." 

Toward  the  close  of  the  year  1864,  as  the  cloud  of 
defeat  began  to  darken  over  Southern  homes,  the  sit- 
uation was  truly  one  of  sadness;  neighbors,  fathers, 
husbands,  sons  and  brothers  dead,  the  cause  for  which 
so  much  had  been  sacrificed  lost;  the  future  dark  and 
uncertain.  Under  this  feeling  he  bases  a  lamentation 
upon  the  15th  verse  31st  chapter  of  Jeremiah. 

LAMENTATION  OF  THE  SOUTHERN  LAND. 

Where  are  all  our  brave  defenders, 
Where  are  all  our  veteran  soldiers, 
Where  are  now  our  valiant  generals 
Who  have  fought  for  Southern  homes  ? 


232  The  Life  and  Times  of 

Many  fell  amidst  the  carnage, 

Some  were  maimed  and  some  were  wounded, 

Others  died  of  wounds  or  sickness 

Far  away  from  home  and  friends. 

{Lamentation — A  voice  was  heard,  &c.) 

Where  are  now  our  sons  and  husbands. 
Where  are  now  our  mothers'  children, 
Where  are  brothers,  where  are  fathers. 
Scattered  o'er  this  sunny  land  ? 

Some  are  now  in  far-off  prisons. 
Others  died  and  have  been  buried ; 
All  have  felt  the  fiery  ordeal ; 
Few  have  come  to  home  and  friends. 

Where  are  now  their  wives  and  sisters. 
Where  are  all  those  helpless  widows, 
Where  are  now  those  weeping  mothers, 
Scattered  o'er  this  sunny  land  ? 

Some  are  hungry,  some  are  begging, 
Some  with  broken  hearts  are  dying ; 
All  have  felt  the  fiery  ordeal 
Of  this  dreadful  scourge  of  war. 

{Lamentation.) 

Where  are  now  those  orphan  children 
Who  have  lost  their  loving  fathers  ? 
They  are  looking  for  protection 
From  the  hands  of  friends  and  kin. 

Some  are  crying,  some  are  starving. 
Others  naked  or  are  dying; 
They  have  felt  the  fiery  ordeal 
Of  this  dreadful  scourge  of  war. 

{Lamentation.) 


Eev.  Johnson  Olive.  233 

There  are  other  compositions  of  like  nature  to  those 
here,  given,  but  our  taste  and  good  judgment  may 
already  be  questioned  for  bringing  such  material  into 
this  work  as  a  part  of  the  record  of  a  minister's  life. 
They  were  not  written  for  this  work — indeed  only  one 
or  two  of  them  were  written  for  the  press.  Neither 
were  they  written,  save  the  first  one  given,  during  his 
active  ministry.  They  were  his  first  open  and  public 
declarations,  as  his  soul  began  to  be  liberated  from  a 
state  of  darkness  and  oppressive  bondage  for  a  period 
of  four  years;  for  this  reason  they  are  here  given.  At 
the  time  they  were  written  they  read  well,  and  were 
appropriately  suited  to  the  purposes  they  were  inten- 
ded to  meet.  His  neighbors  and  friends  listened  to 
him  as  he  read  with  deep  interest.  They  struck  a 
popular  cord  in  the  hearts  of  his  people  at  that  time, 
but  like  many  other  things  in  this  life,  needs  to  be 
realized  to  be  appreciated. 

While  it  is  clear  from  the  reading  of  these  contribu- 
tions that  he  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  some  degree  of 
spiritual  light,  he  was  still  far  from  realizing  fully  his 
acceptance  with  God.  He  did  not  yet  manifest  any 
special  interest  in  religious  matters;  did  not  wish  to 
go  to  church  or  religious  gatherings,  and  preferred  not 
to  talk  upon  religious  subjects;  yet  had  lost  none  of 
his  desire  to  be  a  good  man,  and  had  no  more  sympa- 
thy with  wickedness  or  evil  doing  than  in  his  bright- 
est days.  When  asked  about  preaching,  he  expressed 
as  his  opinion  that  he  should  never  preach  again. 
His  soul  during  this  period  was  evidently  not  bur- 
dened with  divine  messages  to  the  people. 


234       »  The  Life  and  Times  op 

The  able-bodied  men  of  the  South  had  about  all 
been  gathered  into  service  of  some  nature.  The  call 
for  the  youths  of  seventeen  years  of  age  was  now  made. 
A  short  while  after  this  call  his  oldest  son  then  living 
became  of  age.  He  went  to  the  school-house  in  an 
adjoining  neighborhood  where  this  son  was  attending 
school  about  the  first  of  November,  and  informed  him 
that  he  had  been  enrolled  for  service,  and  though 
young,  he  was  now  amenable  to  the  laws  of  his 
country,  and  that  the  enrolling  officers  would  allow 
him  to  select  his  own  command.  Many  sad  faces  fol- 
lowed the  father  and  son  as  they  walked  away  from 
the  school  house.  The  words  of  the  father  were  cheer- 
ing— advising  his  son  to  go  forward  and  meet  his  duty 
as  a  man. 

The  son  was  the  recipient  of  many  kind  letters  and 
much  good  advice  from  the  father  during  the  six 
months  spent  in  service. 

Father  spent  the  fall  of  1864  and  the  early  part  of 
1865  around  home,  visiting  some  among  his  relatives 
and  neighbors,  writing  some  letters  to  friends  and  rel- 
atives in  the  army,  and  reading  much  of  the  news  of 
the  times  we  were  then  passing  through. 

By  this  time  he  had  assumed  full  control  of  his 
farm  work  and  domestic  cares.  A  fine  crop  was  pro- 
duced during  the  year  1884,  and  his  supply  of  the 
necessaries  of  life  were  abundant  for  one  of  his  means. 
His  stock  were  never  in  better  trim.  "Splendor 
usually  goeth  before  a  storm."  It  proved  so  in  this 
case,  for  early  in  March,  Sherman,  at  the  head  of  the 
Union  forces  in  the  South,  had  completed  his  famous 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  235 

march  to  the  sea,  and  was  turning  his  course  through 
North  Carolina,  in  the  direction  of  Raleigh,  carrying 
destruction  of  produce,  fowls,  and  stock  of  every  kind 
in  his  wake.  Here  (mainly  in  Durham  and  Wake 
counties)  the  Sherman  army,  composed  of  about  65,000 
men,  encamped  for  a  space  of  two  or  three  weeks,  while 
Johnson's  army  was  about  Greensboro.  The  cause  of 
this  halting  of  the  two  armies  was  the  peace  negotia- 
tions that  were  going  on  between  Sherman  and  John- 
son, near  Durham,  N.  C,  which  resulted  on  the  18th 
of  April  in  the  surrender  of  the  forces  under  Johnson. 
This  portion  of  the  country  had  suffered  some  by 
the  occasional  ravages  of  the  Confederate  forces  which 
had  just  passed  through,  but  the  dregs  of  the  cup  were 
fully  tested  when  the  Sherman  army  arrived.  The 
14th  and  20th  army  corps  were  stationed  during  this 
time  in  the  neighborhood  of  Holly  Springs,  Apex, 
Morrisville,  and  Alford's  Mill,  Wake  county.  They 
were  noted  for  their  general  bad  behavior,  and  their 
general  conduct  here  was  not  an  exception.  However, 
it  is  but  just  to  say,  that  among  them  were  many  very 
noble  and  worthy  men,  but  some  as  low  and  mean  as 
the  world  ever  knew.  The  only  rest  to  be  obtained 
by  any  family  in  this  section  during  this  time  was  at 
night.  From  sun  rise  to  sun  set  they  crowded  every 
house,  every  road,  lane,  yard  and  field,  without  word 
and  without  ceremony,  taking  everything  they  de- 
sired, from  a  common  brass  pin  to  a  horse  or  wagon, 
plundering  most  uncivilly  every  drawer,  private  room 
and  outhouse  all  through  the  live  long  day,  killing 
fine  cattle  (sometimes  for  a  mess  of  steak),  and  leaving 


236  The  Life  and  Times  op 

the  remainder  to  waste.  Such  are  some  of  the  hard- 
ships of  cruel  war. 

Father  was  unusually  quiet  under  all  this  procedure. 
We  had  been  informed  of  their  manner  of  dealing, 
and  were  prepared  to  meet  it.  This  consolation  we 
found  in  this  hour  of  trial  may  have  been  due  in  part 
to  some  things  we  knew  and  they  did  not.  A  few 
days  previous  to  their  arrival,  father,  by  the  aid  of  an 
old  family  servant  and  other  members  of  his  family, 
had  succeeded  in  storing  away  a  good  share  of  the 
bountiful  crop  of  corn,  wheat,  pork,  &c.,  produced 
during  the  year  1864.  He  must  have  put  into  prac- 
tice some  of  the  lessons  he  learned  in  early  life  from 
climbing  and  hide  and  seek.  The  skill  he  acquired 
in  climbing,  (which  up  to  this  time  had  not  as  we 
could  see  availed  him  much),  now  proved  of  real  profit. 
(So  much  for  learning  all  that  is  useful  in  early  life, 
for  it  will  somewhere  along  the  journey  of  life  be  of 
value  to  us). 

In  different  directions  from  his  house  he  took  choice 
lots  of  bacon,  and  ascending  forty  or  fifty  feet  high 
into  the  tops  of  trees,  he  would,  with  cords  anJ  splits, 
there  fasten  his  prize.  Strange  to  say,  not  a  piece  was 
lost,  although  the  enemy  infested  every  place,  and 
even  butchered  some  live  hogs  under  one  tree  where 
bacon  was  hanging  over  head.  (It  may  be  they  were 
not  accustomed  to  look  up  for  blessings). 

The  corn  and  other  produce  was  taken  to  swamps 
and  to  the  newly  cleared  field,  and  stored  away  in 
leaves  and  bags  under  the  brush,  and  amidst  the  thick 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  237 

bushes.  Most  of  this  was  lost  or  wasted,  but  the  effort 
did  not  prove  entirely  in  vain. 

We  should  not  feel  that  we  had  fairly  represented 
father  here  were  we  to  close  this  account  without 
making  mention  of  an  humble  individual,  but  faith- 
ful friend  of  father  and  his  family  through  this  period 
that  brought  to  severe  test  the  colored  race.  This 
individual  was  George,  a  colored  man  whom  he 
had  owned  for  about  eight  years.  He  remained  true 
and  faithful  to  the  family,  even  after  the  arrival  of 
the  army  whose  presence  meant  his  freedom.  He  had 
aided  in  hiding  almost  everything,  and  we  have  every 
reason  for  believing  that  he  kept  the  secret  committed 
to  him  sacred  and  profound,  notwithstanding  the  per- 
suasions, entreaties  and  threats  of  the  marauders. 

So  great  was  his  attachment  to  his  old  master  that 
he  remained  for  sometime  with  the  family,  and  ren- 
dered valuable  aid  in  getting  together  their  scattered 
effects,  and  in  making  another  start  for  life. 

During  this  stay  of  the  army  described,  a  guard  was 
asked  for,  but  given  too  late  to  save  the  effects  of  the 
family.  It  proved,  however,  a  great  relief,  as  no  ad- 
mittance into  dwelling  houses  or  those  adjacent  was 
afterwards  allowed.  Also  disorders  about  the  prem- 
ises were  strictly  looked  after.  The  guard  were  bitter 
in  their  denunciation  of  these  vile  ones,  yet  from  con- 
tests that  sometimes  arose  it  was  plain  that  it  was  only 
their  turn  to  be  orderly  and  uphold  the  dignity  of 
army  discipline. 

Father  found  some  friends  among  this  dreaded  foe. 
A    man   of    Dutch    decent,   called    by   his   comrades 


238  The  Life  and  Times  of 

"  Dutch,"  belonging  to  the  14th  corps,  and  in  charge 
of  a  train  of  wagons,  called  to  get  some  forage  upon 
the  early  advent  of  the  army,  and  being  a  generous, 
noble-hearted  man,  acted  most  kindly  toward  the  sub- 
jugated ones  He  had  here  met  one  who  could  appre- 
ciate true  manhood,  and  a  very  warm  attachment  here 
sprang  up  between  them.  He  promised  to  render 
whatever  aid  he  could  while  among  us. 

A  few  days  after  the  departure  of  the  army  from  the 
neighborhood,  being  without  horses,  father  went  to  the 
City  of  Raleigh,  hoping  to  find  some  that  would  at 
least  enable  him  to  make  a  crop.  After  reaching  the 
city,  and  wandering  for  a  time  in  search  of  horses,  and 
finding  none  that  he  could  get,  and  almost  ready  to 
return  home  as  he  came,  he  very  unexpectedly  came 
up  with  his  friend  "  Dutch."  He  soon  made  his  wishes" 
known,  when  "  Dutch  "  drops  his  work,  proceeds  with 
him  a  short  distance,  and  points  out  to  him  two  young 
horses,  about. three  years  old,  much  jaded  and  badly 
scarred,  and  with  all  very  poor.  ''Dutch"  tells  him 
this  is  the  best  he  can  do  ;  that  his  coming  was  rather 
late,  but  these  are  young,  take  them  home  and  treat 
them  well,  and  they  will  make  you  good  horses. 

He  bade  "Dutch"  a  hearty  good-bye,  and  never 
again  saw  or  heard  from  him.  I  trust  they  will  meet 
in  heaven. 

How  much  good  we  can  sometimes  do  by  little  acts 
of  kindness;  let  us  not  withhold  them.  Father  ever 
spoke  of  "  Dutch  "  with  warmth  .and  affection. 

These  little  broken-down  colts  thrived  rapidly,  and 
enabled  us  to  make  a  fair  crop  during  the  year  1865' 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  239 

and  for  many  years  were  great  favorites  in  the  family. 
We  will  never  forget  the  Pennsylvania  Dutchman. 

It  is  now  May,  and  but  little  farm  work  done;  one 
month  at  least  l^ost  out  of  the  farms  this  year  in  the 
section  named.  If  there  ever  was  an  occasion  for 
gloom  it  appeared  to  be  now  upon  us.  Yet  we  are 
never  in  this  life  without  numerous  mercies  for  which 
to  feel  thankful.  The  evils  of  this  life  are  as  the 
cloudy  days  ;  the  mercies  are  as  the  fair  days.  Let  us 
cultivate  the  disposition  to  look  more  at  God's  smiles 
and  less  at  His  frowns  ;  His  frowns  only  tend  to  drive 
us  into  the  path  of  duty. 

While  this  period  found  us  impressed  with  many 
unpleasant  memories,  we  had  many  things  to  rejoice 
over;  we  had  our  lands;  many  were  permitted  to  ex- 
change the  ills  of  camp-life  for  the  peaceful  pursuits 
of  farm-life;  food,  though  not  bountiful,  was  whole- 
some, and  could  be  enjoyed  in  peace  and  quiet ;  the 
night's  rest  was  no  longer  broken  by  the  duties  of  the 
camp,  or  the  long-roll.  Besides  all  this,  the  health  of 
the  people  was  never  better;  the  seasons  were  never 
more  favorable ;  the  small  grain  crops  were  all  that 
could  be  asked.  The  vegetable  crops  were  never  bet- 
ter. Four  years  of  war  had  fitted  the  people  for  the 
enjo^'ment  of  peace  and  home  comforts  as  they  had 
never  enjoyed  them  before.  All  worked  with  a  free, 
hearty  good  will,,  and  everything  to  which  they  turned 
their  hands  flourished.  No  one  who  passed  through 
these  times  could  fail  to  feel  that  God's  special  provi- 
dences  were  over  the  conquered   States  at  this  time. 

Father  took   the  lead   in   his  farm  work  this  year, 


240  The  Life  and  Times  op 

laboring  faithfully  and  earnestly  through  the  entire 
season.  He  had  said  to  his  former  servant  George 
that  if  he  wished  to  remain  with  him  that  he  would 
share  wdiatever  food  he  had  or  might  be  able  to  have, 
with  him ;  that  he  could  not  promise  any  wages,  but 
should  the  crops  prove  good,  he  would  give  him  some- 
thing. He  very  readily  decided  to  remain,  and  the 
bearing  from  one  to  the  other  never  materially 
changed. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Father's  condition,  with  some  exceptions,  was  now 
much  as  it  had  been  before  his  troubles.  He  was 
cheerful  and  hopeful,  showing  but  Lttle  sign  of  gloom 
or  despondency.  Talked  freely,  read  much,  and  wrote 
some.  His  writings  were  mainly  of  a  poetical  nature 
and  directed  mainly  to  the  amusement  of  children. 
His  soul,  which  was  fast  regaining  its  life,  must  give 
vent  in  some  w^ay  to  what  was  felt  within.  He  was 
still  disposed  to  shun  religious  topics,  and  was  not  free 
to  talk  about  his  own  spiritual  condition,  and  ex- 
pressed no  desire  to  attend  religious  services.  We  now 
concluded  that  his  main  objection  to  this  was  that  he 
would  be  pressed  to  take  part  in  the  exercises,  which 
he  was  yet  unwilling  to  do.  In  talking  upon  this  sub- 
ject he  gave  all  to  understand  that  whenever  he  felt 
improised  to  preach  he  should  undertake  it,  but  could 
not  before. 


Rev!  Johnson  Olive.  241 

It  was  now  rather  the  conclusion  of  the  family  that 
he  would  never  again  attempt  to  preach  ;  that  he 
would  likely  return  to  the  church  and  live  the  quiet 
life  of  a  lay  member  the  reuiainder  of  his  days.  He 
was  about'  the  sau^e  man  in  his  family  that  he  had 
formerly  been,  save  his  religious  habits.  He  now  car- 
ried with  him  none  of  the  deep  agitation  of  soul  that 
the  faithful  minister  sometimes  exhibits  while  follow- 
ing the  theme  that  weighs ^him  down,  nor  of  those 
sudden,  quick  flashes  of  the  eye  or  glowing  of  the 
dountenance  when  thought  comes  with  the  force  and 
speed  of  the  lightning  flash.  These  signs,  which  were 
common  to  him  in  former  days,  were  not  now  exhib- 
ited. The  mind  and  manner  indicated  lighter  work, 
and  so  it  was  when  performed. 

His  improvement  thus  far  brought  great  relief  to 
his  family  and  friends.  One  of  such  genial  nature 
and  cheerful  habits,  with  sufficient  hope  to  inspire  all 
around  him,  becoming  silent  and  so  living  for  years, 
produces  a  feeling  akin  to  that  of  death.  But  there 
is  greater  relief  still  just  ahead.  He  was,  when  him-, 
self,  very  fond  of  singing,  and  often  in  former  days, 
while  around  the  fireside  at  night,  would  engage  in 
singing  some  favorite  hymn,  or  some  amusing  song 
with  a  good  moral  and  meaning,  to  the  joy  and  amuse- 
ment of  his  family.  For  about  five  years  his  voice 
had  been  silent  in  all  public  exercises.  Not  a  word 
had  he  uttered  in  song  since  he  ceased  from  the  min- 
istry, that  any  one  had  heard.  Some  of  the  poems  he 
had  written  were  full  of  pathos,  and  their  meaning 
was  best  expressed  in  song. 
11 


242  The  Life  and  Times  of 

He  decided  at  length  to  sing  one  of  these  songs  to 
his  family.  This  occasion  will  long  be  remembered. 
All  were  gathered  about  the  fireplace  at  night,  the 
mother  engaged  with  the  usual  routine  of  house  work 
pertaining  to  the  hour.  Father  brings  forward  one  of 
his  poems  he  had  just  written,  and  after  reading  it, 
asks  his  children,  with  a  slight  tremor  in  his  voice,  if 
they  do  not  wish  to  hear  him  sing  it.  All  respond 
"yes;"  whereupon  he  proceeds  to  sing.  The  deep- 
felt  joy  of  mother  and  children  could  hardly  be  ex- 
pressed. His  voice  had  become  impaired  by  disuse, 
his  manner  was  slightly  embarrassed,  but  this  act  was 
an  indication  for  good  ;  the  vacuum  which  had  been 
so  long  empty  was  filling  up;  he  must  give  vent  to 
what  he  now  felt  within  his  soul. 

He  related  to  his  wife  a  dream  wdiich  occurred  to 
him  about  this  period,  and  while  he  did  not  attach 
any  great  importance  to  the  wanderings  of  the  mind 
in  sleep,  it  was  in  harmony  with  the  great  struggles 
between  light  and  darkness  that  were  going  on  in  his 
own  mind,  and  added  courage  and  strength  to  the 
better  part. 

In  some  of  the  mysterious  ways  into  which  his  night 
thoughts  led  him^  he  met  with  a  huge  mastiff,  marked 
with  a  fierce  and  angry  look,  intent  upon  destroying 
everything  in  his  pathway.  He  saw  no  way  of  escape; 
on,  on  he  comes  most  furiously.  He  nerves  himself 
up  for  the  contest,  and  in  a  moment  the  dog  is  upon 
him,  and  a  life  and  death  struggle  ensues.  He  subdues 
his  cruel  antagonist,  and  with  one  stroke  of  his  drawn 
knife  cuts  his  throat.     He  saw  and  recognized  in  ihis 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  243 

cruel  animal  a  type  of  the  enemy  he  had  been  con- 
tending with  for  the  past  five  years.  He  had  at  last 
subdued  him,  and  whether  this  was  from  God  or  not 
it  hastened  the  day  of  his  deliverance. 

Here  we  would  pause  and  ask  if  we  are  not  too  ready 
to  cast  aside  all  dreams  and  say,  "Folly,  folly."  God 
does  not  forsake  us  when  we  fall  asleep.  Why  not 
some  impression  for  good  be  made  upon  us  by  night 
as  well  as  by  day?  Who  has  not  been  perplexed  and 
troubled,  and  received  some  impressions  in  his  dreams 
that  were  of  service  to  him  in  overcoming  these  diffi- 
culties? Much  evil  would  result  in  our  spiritualizing 
all  dreams,  and  it  is  well  for  us  not  to  teach  that 
they  are  all  messages  from  God,  any  moi;e  than  that 
all  the  meanderings  of  our  minds  in  the  day  are  mes- 
sages from  Him  ;  yet  we  would  do  well  many  times  to 
meditate  upon  the  impressions  made  upon  our  minds 
in  dreams,  and  receive  all  the  good  we  can  from  them. 
It  may  sometimes  be  the  voice  of  God.  We  think  we 
do  not  say  too  much  when  we  sa}^  this.  We  ask  par- 
don for  mentioning  an  item  in  our  own  experience 
just  here,  that  we  may  not  be  misunderstood  upon  this 
critical  point. 

For  some  days  a  degree  of  unpleasantness  had  mani- 
fested itself  on  the  part  of  a  friend  toward  us.  This 
tended  to  chill  our  feelings.  One  night  we  dreamed 
our  friend  was  dead,  and  in  our  dream  we  saw  him 
clearly  surrounded  by  his  afflicted  family.  The  next 
day  he  used  in  our  hearing  some  unguarded  remark 
which  we  would  ordinarily  have  felt  like  resenting. 
At  once  we  saw  him  as  he  had  appeared  to  us  the  night 


244  The  Life  and  Times  of 

before;  over  him  standing  a  heart-broken  wife  and 
children.  We  were  reminded  of  the  short  time  allotted 
us  here,  and  of  how  soon  this  would  be  the  case  with 
our  friend,  whether  he  lived  long  or  short,  or  whether 
we  witnessed  it  or  not.  Under  this  reflection  our  heart 
softened ;  we  saw  the  folly  of  harboring  ill  will  and 
bitterness,  and  were  enabled  then  and  there  to  banish 
all  such  feelings  from  our  heart. 

Many  cases  equally  as  striking  have  occurred  in  our 
history.  Be  not  disobedient  to  the  teachings  of  God, 
whether  by  day  or  by  night;  whe^.her  by  His  direct 
providences  or  in  the  mysterious  unfoldings  of  His 
universal  laws. 

At  this  period  father  begins  to  read,  talk  and  sing 
with  a  degree  of  earnestness  that  had  marked  his 
course  through  former  years.  Religious  books  are 
fully  consulted;  light  is  daily  increasing;  the  Bible  is 
his  constant  adviser ;  he  begins  to  realize  that  through- 
out his  past  life  he  had  been  in  the  hands  of  a  merciful 
Father;  that  goodness  and  mercy  had  been  following 
him  all  the  days  of  his  life.  Especially  did  it  now  ap- 
pear plain  to  him  that  the  hand  of  a  merciful  Father 
bad  been  leading  him  for  the  past  five  years  through 
the  deep  and  thick  darkness  that  he  had  come.  He 
now  realizes  fully  that  his  life  had  not  been  in  his 
own  hands,  neither  in  the  hands  of  satan ;  that  while 
satan  had  great  power,  that  God  had  all  power.  The 
promises  of  the  Bible  began  now  to  appear  more  beau- 
tiful to  him  than  ever  before.  He  had  formerly  read 
and  believed  them;  he  had  now  tried  and  had  proved 
them  ;  his  faith  in  God  began  to  grow  doubly  strong ; 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  245 

he  could  now  feel  and  realize  the  force  of  many  pass- 
ages of  God's  Word  with  an  understanding  not  hith- 
erto possessed.  He  could  now  say  with  almost  the  as- 
surance of  David:  "Though  I  walk  through  the  val- 
ley of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  thy 
rod  and  thy  staff  do  comfort  me." 

God  had  been  with  him  through  the  dark  valleys 
crossed  by  him  during  the  years  just  passed.  He 
really  felt  in  his  heart  that  these  chastenings  had 
not  been  in  vain,  but  that  they  had  accomplished  that 
whereunto  they  were  sent.  He  felt  that  he  could  now 
love  and  trust  God  as  he  had  never  done  before;  that 
like  Job,  this  chastisement  would  last  him  to  the  end 
of  his  days.  He  never,  from  this  time  to  the  day  of 
his  death,  entertained  the  least  idea  of  its  repetition. 
From  expressions  of  his  own,  these' were  now  the 
movings  of  his  mind. 


CHAPTER  XX.  ^ 

It  is  now  August,  1865.  The  people  of  his  acquain- 
tance kept  informed  as  to  his  condition.  They  had 
not  forgotten  him  during  his  absence  from  among 
them.  Many  of  them  had  visited  him  during  his  af- 
flictions, and  by  many  other  ways  extended  their 
sympathies.  Some  of  the  churches  and  congregations 
he  had  formerly  served  sent  contributions  to  his  family 
during  this  period,  to  say  nothing  of  the  many  acts  of 
individual  kindness.      They  all  rejoiced   to  hear  of 


246  The  Life  and  Times  of 

his  improvement,  and  anxiously  await  the  day  when 
he  should  again  mingle  with  them  as  preacher  and 
pastor.  His  mother  church,  Shady  Grove,  Wake 
county,  had  at  a  previous  meeting  invited  father  to 
come  to  see  them.  Hearing  of  this  he  sends  for  the 
pastor,  Rev.  J.  C.  Wilson,  to  come  and  see  him,  which 
he  does,  at  an  early  day.  The  relation  existing  be- 
tween this  worthy  man  of  God  and  father  was  such  as 
existed  between  very  few  men.  Born  near  the  same 
date,  in  the  same  community,  brother's  and  sister's 
children,  in  youth  attending  the  same  schools  and  en- 
tering the  ministry  near  the  same  date,  they  could  ap- 
proach each  other  with  freedom  and  with  confidence. 

The  subject  is  introduced.  He  firmly  believed  up 
to  this  time,  as  stated  by  him  in  his  own  writings,  that 
soon  after  the  commencement  of  his  troubles  the 
church  at  Shady  Grove  withdrew  fellowship  from  him. 
He  stated  this  to  his  visiting  friend.  Upon  being  as- 
sured by  him  that  such  was  not  the  case,  and  that  the 
cburch  had  never  even  had  or  thought  of  having  the 
case  under  consideration,  he  manifested  great  relief, 
and  promised  to  be  with  the  church  at  their  August 
meeting. 

They  now  discuss  numerous  subjects  pertaining  to 
religion  and  the  welfare  of  the  church,  wherein  brother 
Wilson  states  father  manifested  the  same  interest  of 
soul,  freedom  of  speech,  and  soundness  of  judgment  be 
had  done  in  former  years.  This  visit,  the  message 
borne,  the  information  received  were  very  consoling  to 
father. 

He  gave  previous  notice  to  the  family  of  his  inten- 


Rkv.  Johnson  Olive.  247 

tion  to  visit  his  church  at  August  meeting.  This  was 
glad  news  to  his  family  and  friends,  and  the  necessary 
preparation  was  made  for  the  journey,  not  supposing, 
however,  that  he  proposed  to  preach,  but  was  going  of 
his  own  accord  to  attend  religious  services.  Time 
soon  rolled  around  for  the  August  meeting. 

Early  on  Saturday  morning  he  is  on  his  way  to  the 
church,  which  he  reaches  in  due  time,  and  finds  present 
the  pastor.  Rev.  J.  C.  Wilson,  and  a  goodly  number 
of  brethren  and  friends.  It  could  not  be  expected 
after  so  long  an  absence  that  his  manner  and  his  bear- 
ing would  be  easy  and  natural,  especially  when  he 
knew  how  closely  every  one  scrutinized  his  course; 
yet  he  manifested  a  fair  degree  of  freedom  in  general 
conversation.  The  pastor  preached,  and  there  was  no 
more  attentive  listener  than  his  visiting  friend. 

After  services  the  church  met  in  conference,  and 
when  the  usual  business  had  been  transacted,  and  an 
opportunity  offered,  fatner  arose  and  stated  to  the 
church  that  for  five  long  years  he  had  been  as  one 
dead;  that  he  had  passed  through  more  than  tongue 
or  pen  could  ever  describe;  had  been  lost  to  all  hope, 
and  had  felt  that  he  was  the  meanest  man  on  earth, 
and  that  he  had  been  an  im poster,  preaching  Christ 
while  he  himself  was  a  stranger  to  grace;  he  never 
purposed  or  intended  to  act  this  part,  but  had  been 
honestly  mistaken,  yet  the  evil  resulting  from  such  a 
course  was  the  same,  and  to  him  it  appeared  the  prop- 
agator of  such  deeds  could  not  be  held  innocent,  for 
he  should  have  been  more  particular,  and  made  the 
right  start.     This  he  stated  in  brief  had  been  some  of 


248  The  Life  and  Times  of 

his  troubles.  He  further  stated  what  impression  he 
had  been  under  all  the  while  relative  to  their  with- 
drawal of  fellowship  from  him.  He  closed  by  saying 
that  these  dark  clouds  had  now  passed  from  over  his 
head;  that  the  light  of  God's  countenance  had  again 
appeared  to  him;  that  he  now  felt  that  he  wished  to 
work  in  his  Master's  vineyard,  but  under  existing  cir- 
cumstances he  was  unwilling  to  proceed  until  he  had 
submitted  his  case  to  his  brethren,  who  he  felt  would 
deal  honestly  and  candidly  with  him.  Urging  them 
to  show  him  no  favors  in  consequence  of  sympathy  or 
affection,  he  submits  himself  to  their  action. 

There  was  but  one  sentiment  among  them.  All 
wished  to  see  him  laboring  again  in  the  great  cause 
he  had  once  so  zealously  maintained.  Accordingly 
the  conference  adopted  the  following  resolutions  : 

"Whereas,  Brother  Johnson  Olive  has  been  absent  from 
us  and  silent  on  his  ministeral  duties  for  four  or  five  years, 
laboring,  as  he  says,  under  somewhat  a  delirious  state  of 
mind,  which  seems  to  have  measurably  abated,  and  he  calls 
upon  us,  the  church,  to  say  what  course  he  must  pursue,  or 
what  he  shall  do, 

Resolved,  That  we  recommend  that  brother  Olive  resume 
his  ministerial  duties  again  as  before,  and  exorcise  in  public 
when  and  where  he  chpses  to  do  so;  and  furthermore,  we 
recommend  him  to  his  former  churches  and  to  the  community 
generally;  and  we  furthermore  believe  that  there  is  a  work 
for  him  yet  to  perform,-  and  that  the  space  of  time  that 
brother  Olive  has-been  silent  from  the  ministry  seems  to  be 
the  handiwork  of  Providence,  and  may  have  been  to-  ripen 
and  qualify  him  for  that  work  which  he  has  yet  to  perform ; 
and  as  such  we  would  say,  in  the  language  of  our  Saviour 
whei;  he  said  to  Peter  'feed  my  sheep,'  brother  Olive,  go  and 
do  likewise." 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  249 

The  conference  adjourned,  with  an  appointment  for 
Rev.  Johnson  Olive  to  preach  on  the  next  day,  (being 
Sabbath).  This  was  satisfactory  to  father,  and  accord- 
ingly he  was  on  hand  in  due  time  on  Sunday  morning. 

The  news  of  what  had  transpired  spread  rapidly, 
and  few  men  could  have  attracted  so  large  a  crowd 
with  so  short  notice. 

This  appointment,  as  we  have  seen,  was  in  the  midst 
of  a  people  with  whom  he  had  mingled  from  his  child- 
hood and  youth.  Many  in  this  section  had  heard  him 
from  the  sacred  stand,  the  doorway  or  the  arbor,  in 
former  days,  and  desired  to  hear  him  again  ;  man}^ 
were  rejoiced  at  his  recovery  and  return  to  the  minis- 
try, and  wished  to  hear  and  see  him,  and  add  this 
token  of  approval.  A  still  greater  number  had  not 
seen  him  during  the  five  years  just  passed,  and  desired 
merely  to  see  him.  Others  were  prompted  by  mere 
idle  curiosity.  With  all,  it  seldom  occurs  that  a  more 
eager  crowd  is  assembled.  They  were  coming  in  early 
from  every  direction;  old  men  and  old  ladies,  young 
men  and  young  ladies,  middle  aged  and  children, 
some  perhaps  for  the  first  time  to  this  church.  By 
the  time  the  hour  for  services  had  arrived  several 
hundred  are  present ;  the  house  is  soon  filled  to  over- 
flowing ;  the  doorways,  the  aisles,  the  windows  are 
crowded  ;  a  number  left  outside  taking  their  positions 
where  they  might- get  an  occasional  glimpse  of  the 
preacher. 

One  striking  feature  of  this  vast  crowd  worthy  of 
remark  was  their  dress.  There  were  very  few  manu- 
factories of  cloth  goods  in  the  Southern  States  up  to 


250  -     The  Life  and  Times  of 

this  time,  and  the  people  had  not  accumulated  suffi. 
cient  means  to  purchase  largely  from  their  recent  op- 
ponents in  war  ;  hence  the  attire  of  the  crowd  was  gar- 
ments that  had  been  long  out  of  use,  or  made  by 
mothers  and  daughters  of  material  they  had  inge- 
niously put  together  during  the  days  of  the  war.  To 
their  praise  be  it  said,  they  had  done  their  part  well. 
A  factory  made  hat,  bonnet  or  pair  of  shoes  was  almost 
a  show.  An  aged  friend  of  ours  had  been  to  market 
a  few  days  before  with  a  load  of  produce,  and  had  pur- 
chased himself  a  factory  hat;  we  were  so  much  struck 
with  its  smoothe,  symmetrical  appearance  that  we  got 
a  swap  out  of  him  next  day.  The  preacher  wears  a 
suit  of  plain,  home-made  cassimere,  divested  of  all 
showy  accompaniments,  and  takes  his  position  in  the 
stand  with  every  eye  upon  him.  A  sense  of  this  fact, 
and  the  eager  expression  of  the  crowd,  rendered  him 
at  first  a  little  nervous.  He  selects  and  reads  his  hymn, 
which  is  sung  with  spirit  and  animation.  After  the 
singing  he  reads  a  selection  from  Job,  and  leads  in 
prayer.  In  all  he  does  rust  is  perceptible,  but  as  he 
proceeds  he  gains  strength  and  brilliancy.  He  ba&es 
his  remarks  upon  the  life  and  writings  of  Job,  and 
for  nearly  two  hours  holds  the  vast  crowd  in  silence, 
listening  to  his  recital  of  God's  dealings  with  Job, 
and  of  some  striking  analogies  between  the  case  of 
Job  and  himself.  He  could  clearly  see  that  God 
meant  love  to  Job  and  valued  instructions  to  his 
people  in  thus  afflicting  him.  That  in  his  own  case 
his  chastenings  had  been  severe,  but  he  felt  they  had 
proved   a  means  of  grace  to  his  soul,  and  through 


Rev.  Johnson  -Olive.  251 

them  in  some  measure  God's  cause  might  be  glorified. 
He  related  with  feelings  many  of  the  incidents  that 
had  crossed  his  pathway  during  the  five  years  just 
passed,  and  expressed  great  faith  in  the  power  of  God 
to  preserve  and  uphold  his  people,  even  in  the  dun- 
geons of  despair.  Upon  many  points  he  was  more 
firm  and  outspoken  than  in  former  years.  It  was  evi- 
dent from  this  introductory  that  his  ministry  in  future 
would  differ  in  some  particulars  from  the  past.  Deeper 
convictions,  more  outspoken,  a  firm  and  unshaken  ad- 
herence to  these  convictions  when  he  had  a  "  thus  saith 
saith  the  Lord  "  for  them. 

The  impressions  made  upon  the  audience  were  pro- 
found. Many  tears  were  shed,  and  at  times  the  stern- 
est hearts  gave  way.  All  left  the  church  with  the 
scenes  he  had  depicted  indellibly  impressed  upon  their 
minds,  feeling  that  the  w^ork  of  this  man  of  God  was 
but  just  begun. 

A  deep  interest  in  his  future  was  now  felt  among 
his  acquaintances.  Some  feared  it  was  a  species  of 
insanity  with  which  he  had  been  troubled,  and  that  it 
might  retufn  ;  others  felt  that  it  was  the  dealings  of  a 
kind  Providence,  and  was  once  for  all.  As  for  father, 
he  talked  freely  and  cheerfully  about  his  condition, 
often  introducing  it  himself,  and  entertained  no  fears 
of  a  like  trouble.  He  is  now  fully  committed  to  his  for- 
mer work,  and  is  eager  to  preach,  and  the  people  anx- 
ious to  hear  him.  Through  the  courtesy  of  neighbor- 
ing pastors  he  is  invited  to  their  churches,  and  had 
soon  preached  a  number  of  discourses  in  the  fields 
formerly  occupied  by  him,  much   to   the  delight  and 


252  The  Life  and  Times  of 

satisfaction  of  his  brethren,  and  interesting  to  all.  He 
spoke  of  the  past  with  an  ease,  freedom  and  cheerful- 
ness that  rather  astonished.  His  manner  at  all  times 
of  representing  this  state  was  like  the  man  who  has 
through  great  trials,  persecutions  and  afflictions,  but 
at  last  has  come  out  triumphant,  exonerated  from  all 
wrong,  and  strengthened  in  character. 

As  he  was  now  making  his  second  start  in  the  min- 
istry, some  changes  in  his  own  life,  both  secular  and 
ministerial,  were  impressed  upon  his  mind.  He  was 
decided  in  his  convictions  never  again  to  so  cumber 
himself  with  worldly  cares.  In  future  he  would  not 
constitute  a  farm  hand,  as  he  had  done  through  much 
of  his  past  ministerial  life.  He  preferred  of  choice  to 
labor  some,  and  during  his  entire  life  never  hesitated 
to  take  hold  whenever  and  wherever  it  was  needed. 
Yet  when  he  saw  these  cares  entangling  him  he  would 
speedily  extricate  himself  therefrom.  He  also  felt  that 
the  customs  of  holding  revival  meetings,  which  had 
been  productive  of  much  good  in  the  past,  had  in  lat- 
ter days  come  to  be  abused  ;  that  morbid  notions  of 
true  and  vital  religion  had  sprung  up  among  the 
masses  through  this  instrumentality;  he  was  not  dis- 
posed to  discard  a  means  that  had  been  so  signally 
blessed  for  the  objections  he  saw  or  the  evils  arising 
out  of  it.  He  consults  with  some  wise  and  experienced 
brethren  upon  these  topics.  His  conclusion  was  to  try 
to  remedy  these  evils,  as  he  thought  them  to  be,  so  far 
as  his  labors  extended.  He  would  teach  the  people 
that  religion  did  not  consist  in  noise  and  great  demon- 
stration ;  that  this  he   would   not  condemn  when  it 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  253 

proceeded  from  a  godly  spirit,  but  to  suppose  that  it 
would  produce  godliness  was  wrong. 

We  do  not  know  that  he  ever  talked  so  freely  upon 
this  subject  with  any  person  as  he  did  wiih  us.  To 
these  principles  he  conformed  his  subsequent  ministry, 
and  found  it  to  be  quite  as  successful,  and  lived  to 
witness  a  more  healthy  state  of  spirituality  among  the 
churches  of  his  charge.  The  principal  objection  to 
the  former  methods  was  that  under  the  great  excite- 
ment that  often  existed  numbers  realized  a  sensation 
that  they  mistook  for  a  change  of  heart.  Among  the 
converts  there  were  too  many  backsliders;  that  many 
would  make  a  new  profession  each  year  that  rolled 
round — would  become  mourners  and  make  professions 
at  each  meeting  for  years  in  succession. 

Many  who  read  this  account  will  know  the  truth 
whereof  we  speak.  In  short,  while  there  was  every 
evidence  to  believe  that  thousands  were  truly  con- 
verted and  added  to  the  church  each  year  through  this 
medium,  the  per  cent  of  those  whose  conversions  ap- 
peared not  genuine  was  too  large.  To  correct  this  evil. 
was  the  subject  that  impressed  him.  We  would  not  be 
understood  to  say  that  father's  views  upon  the  teachings 
of  the  Bible  as  held  by  his  denomination  (Missionary 
Baptist)  were  materially  changed, yet  he  was  not  strictly 
sectarian,  and  always  preferred  to  follow  the  teachings 
of  God  as  he  understood  them,  to  that  of  men,  and 
sought  not  to  bend  the  Word  to  suit  his  own  peculiar 
views.  He  was  in  no  way  active  in  politics,  yet  he  had 
his  notions  of  civil  government,  and  regarding  it  as 
sanctioned  by  the  laws  of  God,  ever  felt  it  a  christian 


254  The  Life  and  Times  of 

duty  to  aid  in  establishing  good  laws,  iu  harmony 
with  the  spirit  and  teachings  of  Divine  revelation, 
and  to  encourage  a  faithful  administration  of  the  same. 


CHAPTER  XXL 


/ 


During  the  fall  of  1865  he  was  called  to  the  pas- 
torate of  Shady  Grove  Church,  Wake  county,  to  take 
effect  the  first  of  January  following.  The  beginning 
of  the  year  1866  finds  him  actually  engaged  in  minis- 
terial work.  He  was  judged  by  those  who  heard  him 
to  be  now  possessed  of  all  the  clearness  of  mind,  energy 
and  vigor  of  spirit  that  had  characterized  his  course 
in  former  years,  with  an  experience  ^rom  which  he 
often  drew  many  forcible  and  successful   illustrations. 

The  period  of  time  immediately  succeeding  the  war 
was  as  remarkable  for  dearth  in  religious  circles  as 
that  just  preceeding  this  "^crisis  wa«  for  life.  Man}'' 
persons  who  had  shown  much  interest  in  church  work 
in  former  years  had  through  the  hardships  of  war  and 
a  soldier's  life  become  cold,  careless  and  indifferent  to 
religious  duties.  This,  added  to  the  confused  and  un- 
settled state  of  civil  government  in  the  recently  sub- 
dued States,  cast  quite  a  gloom  over  the  church  at  this 
time.  If  this  was  a  specimen,  it  has  been  truly  said 
that  war  is  a  great  demoralizer.  A  very  unsettled 
state  of  mind  existed  as  to  secular  life;  no  one  could 
tell  what  would  be  the  outcome  of  the  new  order  of 
things  as  they  then  existed  ;  some  were  for  leaving  to 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  255 

become  citizens  of  other  governments;  almost  ever}^ 
one  looked  to  the  future  with  gloomy  forebodings;  the 
political  and  domestic  situation  formed  the  chief  topics 
of  conversation.  During  such  a  state,  a  hard  and 
laborious  work  remains  for  the  faithful  watchman  who 
is  commanded  to  cry  aloud  and  spare  not  when  he 
sees  the  enemy  approaching.  The  faithful  minister 
found  in  his  congregation  few  of  those  supports  which 
are  so  essential  to  successful  work.  So  many  absent 
faces  and  vacant  seats,  so  little  real  interest  manifested, 
rendered  the  average  church  rather  a  place  of  gloom 
than  of  joy.  The  chief  thoughts  which  seemed  to  oc- 
cupy his  mind  were  to  arouse  christians  to  a  sense  of 
the  dangers  which  surrounded  them,  and  to  their  duty, 
and  to  awaken  sinners  to  the  dangers  which  were  en- 
twining them.  He  sought  to  quiet  the  minds  of  his 
hearers  upon  the  dangers  which  threatened,  and  urged 
them  to  fear  God  rather  than  man  ;  to  practice  nothing 
which  Jehovah  had  forbidden,  though  men  should  seek 
to  enforce  it;  to  live  by  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  if  need  be,  to  die  by  it.  In  his  efforts  to  settle  the 
minds  of  his  hearers  upon  the  questions  then  agitating 
them,  he  was  sometimes  charged  by  some  who  sup- 
ported the  political  measures  ^f  these  times  with 
preaching  politics.  This  rather  amused  than  offended 
him,  for  lie  felt  that  he  knew  his  own  heart  in  this 
matter  and  only  desired  to  bring  all  the  lights  of 
Scripture  he  could  to  bear  upon  this  subject,  to  the  end 
that  the  minds  of  his  people  might  be  established. 

It  was  during   this  year  that  his  lifelong  friend, 
Rev.  P.  W.  Dowd,  died  at  his  home  in  Wake  county. 


256  The  Life  and  Times  of 

He  visited  him  in  his  last  sickness,  and  talked  freely 
with  him  about  his  disease  and  his  prospects  beyond 
the  Jordan  of  death.  He  stated  tlfat  he  was  rapidly 
sinking  but  experienced  no  pain.  He  had  do  fears  of 
death ;  to  die  would  be  gain.  His  cool,  calm  resigna- 
tion as  he  stood  upon  the  brink  of  eternity  greatly  im- 
pressed father,  and  he  often  alluded  to  this  circum- 
stance in  after  life  when  speaking  of  the  dying  chris- 
tian. He  was  present  at  his  funeral  and  burial,  and 
returned  home  feeling  as  if  he  had  been  to  the  funeral 
and  burial  of  a  father. 

He  now  begins  to  realize  more  fully  than  ever  before 
the  great  responsibility  that  reits  upon  him  as  one  of 
the  few  ministers  remaining  in  his  section  of  country. 
The  number  of  young  men  entering  the  ministry  at 
this  time  were  very  few,  and  for  a  period  of  ten  years 
or  more  after  the  war,  the  work  of  the  ministry  de- 
volved mainly  upon  those  who  had  been  long  in  the 
harness. 

In  the  midst  of  his  labors  during  the  fall  of  this 
year  he  received  a  friendly,  though  almost  fatal  blow 
from  a  young  horse  while  stopping  with  his  sister  on 
his  way  home  from  some  family  visits.  I  was  not  far 
away  from  the  scene  at  the  time,  and  was  sent  for  by 
him.  There  was  evidence  of  an  internal  wound  which 
might  result  in  early  dissolution.  He  talked  of  his 
misfortune  very  pleasantly,  yet  his  intense  pain  led 
him  to  feel  that  death  might  be  near  at  hand.  He 
said  death  was  not  a  terror  to  him,  and  if  it  was  the 
Lord's  time  all  was  well.  Soon  a  physician  arrived 
and  in  a  few  hours  hopes  for  his  recovery  began  to  re- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  257 

vive.  He  was  debarred  from  preaching  for  several 
weeks  in  consequence  of  this  affliction. 

For  the  year  18G7  he  recived  calls  to  the  pastorate  of 
Shady  Grove,  Bethany  and  Ephesus  churches,  Wake 
county,  and  at  Mt.  Gilead,  Chatham  county.  This  was 
quite  an  active  year  with  him.  Since  his  returning  to 
the  ministry  the  people  everywhere  were  anxious  to 
meet  him  and  hear  him.  His  vacant  Sundays  were 
filled  with  appointments  to  preach  funerals  and  fill 
the  appintments  of  other  pastors.  He  frequently  rode 
twenty  to  twenty  five  miles  to  these  appointments. 
In  addition  to  his  four  churches  and  the  labors  just 
named,  he  was  engaged  during  this  year  in  writing 
his  biography,  which  forms  the  basis  of  this  work. 

By  this  time  there  w^as  marked  improvement  in  the 
country.  The  favorable  crops  of  1865  and  1866  had 
done  much  to  relieve  the  people ;  prices  of  most  farm 
products  were  enormous.  Local  government  was  grad- 
ually being  re-established,  and  military  power  giving 
way  to  some  extent.  Some  of  the  dark  forebodings 
had  not  been  realized,  and  the  minds  of  the  people 
were  becoming  much  more  settled.  All  this  was  fa- 
vorable to  successful  church  work.  Congregations  were 
larger  and  much  more  interested  in  religious  work 
than  formerly.  A  deep  sense  of  the  responsibility  now 
resting  upon  the  ministry,  and  the  great  need  for  earn- 
est, consecrated  work  inflame  his  soul  and  he  preaches 
with  much  zeal  and  fervor.  His  strongest  impressions 
are  to  build  up  the  waste  places  of  Zion  at  home  ;  to 
awaken  Christians  to  a  sense  of  duty,  and  sinners  to  a 


258  The  Life  and  Times  op 

knowledge  of  their  danger.     And  to  these  purposes  he 
gave  much  of  his  time  and  talents. 

Living  in  the  country,  preaching  in  the  country, 
and  being  intimately  acquainted  with  the  circum- 
stances of  many  of  his  flock,  (as  many  of  them  con- 
sulted him  freely  upon  almost  every  subject,  and  kept 
few  secrets  from  him),  he  knew  well  the  ^situation  of 
the  people  to  whom  he  preached  both  financially  and 
spiritually.  The  few  years  of  prosperity  had  not  re- 
lieved them  from  the  embarrassments  resulting  from 
the  late  war.  In  this  state  of  circumstances  he  did 
not  feel  it  his  duty  to  urge  his  charges  to  aid  objects 
abroad.  He  was  not  at  heart  opposed  to  any  Chris- 
tian efiPort  authorized  by  the  Word  of  God.  He  had 
ever  been  a  missionary  in  spirit  and  in  practice;  had 
given  liberally  all  his  life  of  his  scanty  means,  and 
was  still  doing  so,  but  declared  that  he  felt  no  respon- 
sibility resting  upon  him  as  a  pastor  to  urge  his 
churches  to  contribute  to  objects  abroad.  Should  he 
live  to  see  his  people  differently  situated  he  would 
then  teach  them  to  aid  in  these  various  objects  of  Chris- 
tian work.  The  people  in  his  charge  living  in  a  sec- 
tion where  the  enemy  in  the  recent  conflicts  were  dis- 
banded were  not  on  a  par  with  other  sections  of  the 
country,  and  until  they  had  in  some  measure  been 
enabled  to  set  their  own  houses  in  order  he  did  not 
feel  called  upon  to  urge  them  to  send  their  contribu 
tions  abroad.  He  expressed  himself  willing  at  all 
times  to  give  any  and  all  an  opportunity  to  help,  but 
could  not  urge  it. 

This  was  father's  position  for  several  years  after  the 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  259 

war.  Some  sharp,  though  at  last  pleasant  controver- 
sies between  himself  and  some  of  his  brethren  grew 
out  of  this  in  some  of  the  associatians.  Yet  so  far  as 
I  could  ever  learn  they  were  usually  conducted  in  a 
Christian  spirit,  and  finally  resulted  in  bringing  all 
parties  together,  and  in  imparting  moderation  rather 
than  bitterness.  The  masses  of  the  people  of  his 
charges  were  with  him  in  sentiment,  and  at  times  some 
good  brethren  thought  division  would  follow.  Father 
was  far  from  courting  anything  of  this  kind,  and  had 
no  selfish  feelings  to  gratify  in  this  matter;  but  deter- 
mined to  stand  firm  by 'the  faith  he  held,  and  pro- 
claim fearlessly  what  he  thought  to  be  the  truth. 

The  courage  with  which  he  maintained  his  convic- 
tions drew  to  him  many  followers,  and  only  awakened 
the  admiration  of  those  who  opposed  his  views.  They 
could  feel  that  nothing  serious  could  come  from  the 
actions  of  one  so  generous  and  so  full  of  energy,  zeal 
and  devotion  to  the  cause  of  his  Master.  They  could 
fully  trust  his  honesty,  and  so  soon  as  he  could  see  his 
churches  able  he  would  not  be  a  whit  behind  in  filling 
the  great  mission  of  his  Lord  :  *'  Go  ye  into  all  the 
world  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature." 

Thus,  what  appeared  at  one  time  to  be  a  serious  ob- 
stacle in  the  way  of  co-operation  and  harmony  in  the 
bounds  of  his  modestv,  soon  subsides  to  the  satisfac- 
tion  of  all.  He  sometimes  spoke  of  the  extreme  to 
which  some  of  the  supporters  of  his  views  were  dis- 
posed to  carry  ideas  he  had  advanced,  and  labored  to 
correct  all  errors  thus  engendered.  Subsequently  the 
churches  of  his  care  were  among  the  most  liberal  in 


260  The  Life  and  Times  of 

contributing  to  the  various  objects  of  christian  work 
of  any  in  the  Association  to  which  they  beloDged.  He 
was,  however,  always  free  to  speak  of  extremes,  and 
held  that  no  amount  of  money  and  men  were  suffi- 
cient to  convert  the  world  to  Christ  without  conse- 
crated hearts  and  the  guiding  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  The  discussions  of  the  various  objects  of  chris- 
tian labor  had  the  effect  in  many  instances  to  awaken 
interest  and  to  shed  light  upon  many  subjects  which 
were  before  but  little  understood. 

Father  ever  remained  satisfied  with  the  part  he 
acted,  and  felt  that  he  had  but  done  justice  to  his  peo- 
ple in  their  poverty  and  want,  and  that  in  the  end  he 
and  oohers  had  alike  been  benefitted  by  the  light  that 
had  been  thrown  upon  the  subjects  under  discussion. 


CHAPTER  XXn./ 

The  work  of  the  ministry  perhaps  never  afforded 
him  more  joy  than  during  this  period.  He  acted  as 
one  continually  emerging  into  greater  light.  His  mind 
was  active  and  clear,  his  impressions  vivid,  his  memory 
almost  faultless,  his  energy  and  zeal  profound  and 
abiding,  his  faith  strong. 

The  following  letter,  addressed  to  the  Rev.  James 
Dennis,  of  Mississippi,  one  he  had  long  known,  and 
for^whom  he  entertained  a  lasting  regard,  will  serve 
to  show  more  of  father's  feelings,  both  as  to  the  time 
of  which  we  write  and  the  past  than  anything  in  our 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  261 

possession.  This  venerable  man  was  his  senior  in  age 
and  in  the  ministry,  was  present  at  his  ordination,  and 
ever  proved  himself  to  be  a  kind  and  faithful  counsel- 
lor to  father.  So  much  did  ne  feel  indebted  to  him 
that  he  sometimes  spoke  of  him  as  a  father  in  the 
ministry.  Hence  this  open,  frank  letter,  which  we 
give  in  full  : 

Wake  County,  N.  C,  July  12,  1867. 

My  Very  Dear  Brother  :— I  have  concluded  to  write  to 
you  another  letter.  I  have  heard  from  you  frequently,  but 
have  received  no  letter  from  you  in  a  long  time.  I  sympa- 
thize with  you  in  your  troubles,  for  I  have  been  a  great  suf- 
ferer myself. 

I  understand  that  you  have  lost  all  your  children  but  one. 
I  have  lost  three,  yet  we  have  five  living.  Our  two  oldest 
and  youngest  are  dead.  You  have  lost  a  son  and  daugh- 
ter. This,  together  with  our  other  losses,  is  enough  to  cause 
our  hearts  to  grieve  and  our  drooping  courage  to  flag.  But 
all  these  things  can  be  borne  and  should  be  borne  with 
patience  and  fortitude.  Yet  Solomon  says:  "A  wounded 
spirit  who  can  bear."  I  have  been  the  man  to  experience* 
this,  not  willingly,  but  from  stern  necessity.  I  do  not  re- 
gret it  now,  for  I  have  learned  more  in  the  school  of  expe- 
rience and  affliction  than  most  of  men,  and  some  lessons 
that  few  if  any  ever  learned  before.  As  useful  and  instruc- 
tive as  these  lessons  have  been,  I  have  no  desire  to  pass 
through  that  school  again. 

Brother  Dennis,  let  me  speak  a  few  words  to  you  as  a  son 
to  his  father,  for  I  feel  that  my  faith  is  strong,  my  hope  firm, 
and  my  consolation  sweet.  I  am  now  a  happy  man,  but  by 
the  grace  of  God  I-  am  what  I  am,  and  through  much  tribu- 
lation I  have  arrived  at  this  state  of  mind.  In  the  first  place 
let  me  say  to  you  what  you  have  often  said  to  others :  We 
should  never  take  on,  or  grieve  inordinately,  for  that  which  is 


262  The  Life  and  Times  of 

unavoidable  on  our  part,  because  we  can  neither  change  one 
hair  white  or  black,  but  as  Jeremiah,  so  let  us  do:  "  Truly, 
this  is  a  grief,  and  let  us  bear  it."  "  O,  Lord,  I  know  that  the 
way  of  man  is  not  in  himself;  it  is  not  in  man  thatwalketh 
to  direct  his  steps."  All  this,  and  a  thousand  times  more  have 
I  found  verified  in  the  school  of  experience.  In  the  next 
place,  let  a  son  say  to  his  father:  "My  father,  think  it  not 
strange  concerning  the  fiery  trial  which  is  to  try  you  as 
though 'some  strange  thing  happened  unto  you."  Do  not 
despond  at  the  hidings  of  God's  face  ;  clouds  may  obscure 
the  sky  of  your  mind,  but  the  Son  of  Righteousness  will 
beam  forth  again  with  healing  in  His  wings  to  your  soul. 

No  man  could  sink  lower  in  the  slough  of  despond  than 
1 ;  not  one  ray  of  hope  penetrated  my  dark  soul,  but  dark- 
ness, death  and  long  despair  reigned  in  constant  horrors 
there.  The  pains  of  hell  got  hold  of  me,  and  nothing  but  a 
fearful  looking-for  of  the  judgment  to  come  and  the  fiery 
displeasure  of  a  sin-avenging  God  awaiting  me. 

And  now  my  dear  father,  I  see  that  God  was  leading  me 
in  a  way  which  I  had  not  hitherto  trod,  and  in  a  way  I  did 
not  know.  Dark  things  have  been  made  plain,  and  crooked 
ways  straight.  If  I  ever  had  religion,  1  had  it  then;  if  I  did 
not  have  it  then,  I  have  it  not  now. 

'  My  dear  brother,  "according  to  thy  faith  so  be  it  unto 
thee."  Faith'is  the  great  lever  in  religion.  We  live  by  faith, 
we  walk  by  faith,  we  stand  by  faith,  and  by  faith  we  over- 
come the  enemies  of  our  souls.  When  faith  is  gone  our  shield 
is  gone,  and  the  fiery  darts  of  the  enemy  will  pierce  us  on  every 
side.  In  the  present  unsettled  state  of  our  country,  and  the 
minds  of  the  people  partaking  of  this  state  more  or  less,  and 
thus  liable  to  be  tossed  by  every  wind  of  doctrine,  I  have 
studied  diligently  to  find  out  the  course  of  wisdom. 

So  far  as  I  am  personally  concerned  these  things  do  not 
greatly  affect  me,  for  I  have  no  fear  of  wicked  men  or  devils, 
but  I  feel  for  others,  for  the  church,  and  the  welfare  of  my 
country. 

I  am  preaching  for  four  churches  this  year.     I  have  good 


Rev.  Johnson   Olive.  263 

congregations,  good  order  and  good  attention,  but  as  yet  I 
have  seen  no  great  efiEect  produced.  I  enjoy  liberty  in  speak- 
ing, and  my  faith  is  so  strong  in  the  power  and  goodness  of 
God  that  I  cannot  doubt  of  final  success.  Since  1  commenced 
preaching  the  second  time,  oi*  as  I  sometimes  feel  since  my 
resurrection  from  the  dead,  I  have  felt  like  a  new  man.  1  have 
lost  my  former  diffidence,  my  timidity  and  embarrassment  in 
preaching  before  any  and  all  persons,  be  they  ever  so  great  or 
learned.  I  feel  that  I  have  a  message  to  tell,  and  "whatso- 
ever my  God  says  that  will  I  speak." 

Many  new  texts  of  Scripture  and  new  subjects  are  rolled 
upon  my  mind  like  a  burden  from  the  Lord,  and  I  am  never 
satisfied  till  I  roll  it  ofi.  Sometimes  nature  revolts  when  these 
subjects  are  pointed  and  severe  against  the  customs  and  man- 
ners that  prevail,  but  I  cannot  rest  till  I  cry  aloud  and  spare 
not.  It  does  seem  to  me  that  the  time  is  fast  approaching 
when  every  man  shall  be  seen  in  his  true  colors.  All  hidden 
sins  shall  be  brought  to  light,  and  the  line  drawn  between 
him  that  serveth  God  and  him  that  serveth  him  not.  The  signs 
of  the  times  indicate  to  my  mind  that  an  invincible  power  is 
working  to  bring  to  light  what  is  and  has  been  going  on  in  the 
heart,  and  all  the  efforts  of  men  to  evade  it  seem  to  be  una- 
vailing. I  would  not  have  you  to  understand  that  I  have  de- 
viated from  the  old  established  doctrines  of  our  holy  religion 
as  handed  down  by  Christ  and  his  apostles,  and  as  taught  by 
our  fathers.  My  meaning  is,  I  have  had  new  subjects  con- 
nected with  that  same  old  religion  brought  to  bear  on  my 
mind. 

Brother  Dennis,  I  shall  take  liberty  in  speaking,  or  rather  in 
writing  to  you,  as  I  have  done  to  other  old  fathers  in  Israel. 
1  am  about  to  have'  a  book  published.  Of  course  this  will 
strike  you  with  some  astonishment,  as  I  have  never  been  in 
the  habit  of  writing  for  publication. 

Not  to  detain  you  here,  I  will  tell  you  some  of  the  exercises 
of  my  mind  on  this  subject  since  my  return  to  the  ministry. 
I  soon  felt  a  strong  anxiety  of  mind  to  relate  my  experience 
during  the  five  years  that  I  was  dead  to  all  spiritual  things. 


264  The  Life  and  Times  of 

I  was  unwilling  to  carry  all  these  things  into  the  pulpit,  and 
make  this  too  prominent  a  part  of  my  preaching,  for  I  felt  it 
my  duty  to  preach  the  Gospel  and  not  my  experience  while  in 
a  state  as  people  looked  upon  as  mental  derangement.  I  con- 
sulted my  brethren  in  the  ministry  in  regard  to  this  matter  and 
they  thought  with  me  that  it  would  be  best  not  to  bring  too 
much  of  this  into  my  sermons.  I  would  tell  my  experience 
through  these  years  to  any  one  who  desire  i  to  hear  it.  In 
this  way  a  great  many  suggested  to  me  that  I  ought  to  write  it 
out  and  have  it  published,  as  it  would  be  calculated  to  do 
much  good,  especially  to  the  afflicted  in  soul  and  all  who  were 
troubled  upon  the  subject  of  religion.  So  I  concluded  to  write 
it  up  and  leave  it  to  be  disposed  of  by  my  friends  and  brethren 
after  my  decease.  In  consulting  with  brother  Dowd  on  this 
subject,  he  advised  me  to  write  it  out  and  have  it  published  as 
soon  as  possible,  promising  to  aid  me  in  any  way  he  could. 
This  I  set  about  doing,  but  he  was  soon  called  away  by  death. 
I  have  thus  far  written  one  hundred  and  forty  pages  and  am 
not  yet  through.  I  think  the  book  will  contain  about  two  hun- 
dred pages.  It  will  embrace  a  short  history  of  my  life.  If  I  have 
it  published  I  will  try  to  send  you  a  copy.  •  Its  title  will  be  "  One 
of  the  wonders  of  the  age,  or  the  life  and  times  of  Johnson 
Olive."  Your  brother  in  Christ, 

JOHNSON  OLIVE. 

The  reader  will  well  understand  that  this  was  not 
written  for  publication,  but  is  here  given  as  the  best 
means  of  showing  the  true  character  of  our  subject  at 
this  time.  As  intimated  through  these  years  the 
preacher  witnessed  but  slight  develof^ment  and  growth 
among  his  members,  and  very  little  increase  of  mem- 
bership, yet  good  was  being  accomplished.  It  was 
truly  a  time  of  seed-sowing,  and  he  who  labored  on  in 
faith  and  in  love,  doing  his  whole  duty,  as  though  the 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  265 

harvest  was  at  hand,  leaving  results  with  his  Master, 
lived  to  see  a  few  years  later  a  glorious  ingathering. 

Through  the  3ears  of  1868  and  1869  father  was 
pastor  of  Shady  Grove,  Bethany,  Ephesus  and  Mt- 
Moriah  churches.  During  this  tiuie  he  was  permitted 
to  witness  a  great  change  among  his  churches  for  the 
better.  Strange  though  it  may  appear  the  progress 
and  prosperity  of  the  church  was  commensurate  with 
the  political  and  material  prosperity  of  the  country. 
This  may  be  an  exception  to  the  rule,  but  it  follows 
war.  We  would  not  be  understood  to  say  that  during 
such  times  christian  people  turn  from  the  true  God, 
but  we  hope  never  again  to  see  a  time  when  there  was 
so  little  thought  and  talk  among  those  who  claim  to 
be  the  people  of  God  of  Him  and  His  mercies.  The 
feeling  experienced  by  the  christian  man  or  woman 
was  horrible.  Hatred,  ill-will  and  vengeance  had  had 
sway  for  years,  and  where  such  feelings  reign  the 
gentle  Spirit  of  God  cannot  dwell. 

Thisstateof  things  was  now  gradually  disappearing; 
much  evil  that  had  been  looked  for  had  not  come  to 
pass;  friendly  relations  are  everywhere  being  grad- 
ually established ;  good  crops  and  good  prices  are 
greatly  relieving  the  wants  of  the  people,  and  a  bright 
future  is  opening  up.  Christians  begin  to  realize  some 
of  the  gentle  influencesof  the  Holy  Spirit;  theirhearts 
are  more  tender;  they  love  each  other  more,  and  feel 
more  concern  about  the  salvation  of  sinners.  During 
the  two  or  three  years  that  now  follow  many  churches 
and  communities  experience  glorious  seasons  of  Divine 
grace. 

12 


266  The  Life  and  Times  of 

During  these  two  y^ars  all  of  fathers'  churches  en- 
joyed a  fair  degree  of  prosperity  ;  some  of  them  passed 
through  the  most  successful  revivals  of  their  history. 
There  were  many  accessions  to  the  church.  A  great 
man}'  full-grown  and  middle  aged  men  were  brought 
into  the  fold  during  this  period. 

I  have  often  heard  the  brethren  of  Bethany  Church, 
formerly  near  Morrisville,  Wake  county,  speak  of  the 
revival  held  there  about  this  time.  They  describe  it 
as  the  J.  reatest  revival  they  ever  witnessed,  the  pastor 
preaching  with  great  clearness  and  power,  but  in  his 
appeals  to  the  unconverted  was  gentle,  mild  and  per- 
suasive, addressing  himself  only  to  their  judgment, 
and  when  he  gave  his  final  invitation  to  those  who 
would  turn  from  the  ways  of  sin  and  death  to  the  ways 
of  righteousness  and  peace,  men  and  women,  boys  and 
girls,  all  ages  and  conditions,  eagerly  came  forward 
seeking  Him  who  died  that  they  might  live.  The 
number  of  converts  was  large  and  a  real  impetus  was 
given  to  the  cause  of  religion  in  this  locality.  Others 
of  his  churches  enjoyed  revival  seasons  quite  as  much 
blessed. 

During  the  few  years  that  follow  he  is  more  conse- 
crated to  his  chosen  work  than  at  any  former  period 
of  his  life.  His  own  health  is  good.  The  health  of 
his  family  is  better  than  for  years;  his  children  about 
all  grown;  his  churches  paying  him  a  sufficient 
amount  for  support,  with  what  he  could  realize  from 
his  little  farm.  According  to  a  previous  conviction 
and  determination,  he  had  as  much  as  was  possible 
cut  loose  from   worldly  cares  and  now  gives  himself 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  267 

almost  wholly  to  ministerial  and  pastoral  work.  He 
is  a  constant  reader.  Few  moments  are  spent  in  idle- 
ness. He  has  a  fair  collection  of  religious  books,  and 
reads  and  studies  with  a  zeal  and  diligence  character- 
istic of  ambitious  youth.  His  congregations  every- 
where are  large  and  attentive,  and  his  thoughts  are 
impressed  upon  th^  hearts  of  many.  His  sayings  and 
teachings  are  familiar  to  a  number  even  to  this  day. 

It  is  but  just  to  say  that  during  this  period  his  ef- 
forts were  greatly  blessed,  and  that  many  souls  were 
brought  into  God's  earthly  kingdom  during  these 
years  of  his  service.  Many  persons  who  will  read  this 
little  volume  date  the  beginning  of  divine  life  to  these 
years  and  to  his  services  as  an  humble  instrument  in 
the  hands  of  Jehovah. 

During  the  two  or  three  years  that  succeeded  the 
death  of  Rev.  P.  W.  Dowd  father  had  under  consider- 
ation the  erection  of  a  monument  to  the  memory  of 
that  distinguished  divine.  He  had  by  the  aid  of  some 
other  brethren  succeeded  in  getting  up  the  amount 
necessary  for  this  purpose,  and  arrangements  were 
made  to  have  the  same  erected  over  his  remains  at 
Mt.  Pisgah  Church,  Chatham  county,  on  the  24th  day 
of  April,  1869.  Owing  to  the  active  part  father  had 
taken  in  raising  the  money  necessary  for  this  under- 
taking, his  life-long  attachment  to  the  deceased,  and 
his  intimate  knowledge  of  his  life  for  over  twenty  five 
years,  he  was  selected  to  prepare  a  suitable  service  for 
the  occasion.  The  day  arrived,  several  hundred  per- 
sons assembled  at  the  church-yard  ;  some  have  esti- 
m^ed  the  attendance  at  near  two  thousand. 


268  The  Life  and  Times  of 

He  introduced  the  services  by  speaking  of  the  oc- 
casion which  had  called  them  together,  the  deep  love 
they  bore  to  him  whose  memory  they  wished  to  per- 
petuate. He  cited  some  Bible  authorities  for  thus 
honoring  the  dead  who  had  so  distinguished  them- 
selves for  good  ;  he  spoke  of  the  abuse  that  had  some- 
times been  made  of  it,  and  of  the  true  spirit  with 
which  all  such  work  should  be  done.  Render  to  all 
men  their  dues.  Under  this  head  he  spoke  feelingly 
of  the  life  and  labors  of  the  eminent  man  of  God. 
He  had  not  escaped  the  persecutor's  shafts,  but  had 
born  it  in  the  spirit  of  his  Master.  He  held  him  up 
as  a  man  of  broad  culture,  clear  logic,  profound  elo- 
quence; had  the  ability  to  speak  what  he  knew  to  the 
very  best  advantage.  As  a  proof  of  his  godly  charac- 
ter he  cited  to  the  fruits  he  bore,  and  mentioned  the 
great  sacrifices  he  made  for  the  cause  he  so  much 
loved,  having  repeatedly  refused  more  invjting  fields, 
but  chose  to  spend  and  be  spent  for  his  Lord  and 
Master  where  he  could  accomplish  most  good.  He 
made  some  tender  allusions  to  the  interest  he  always 
manifested  in  the  young  men  of  his  charges,  of  his 
tender  counsels  with  himself  in  early  life.  The  exer- 
cises closed  by  his  reading  the  following  lines  in 
verse,  which  he  had  prepared  for  the  occasion,  which 
after  reading  he  sang  : 

The  God  who  reigns  in  heaven  above, 

And  rules  this  world  below, 
Who  sends  with  speed  the  shafts  of  death 

Along  the  road  we  go. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  269 

Chorus. 

We  meet  around  the  grave 

Of  Lim  we  loved  so  well, 
This  monument  we  raise 

Above  his  head  to  tell — 

This  God  did  send  to  us  a  man, 

(O!  how  we  loved  his  name,) 
A  chosen  vessel  in  His  hand 

His  Gospel  to  proclaim. 

Our  eyes  have  seen,  our  ears  have  heard, 

Our  hearts  have  felt  his  truth, 
When  he  was  holding  forth  Thy  Word 

In  bygon6  days  of  youth. 

Our  fathers,  mothers,  too  have  heard 

That  man  proclaim  Thy  Name, 
While  he  was  holding  forth  Thy  Word 

They  caught  the  sacred  flame. 

What  wondrous  truths  our  ears  have  heard 

When  he  was  in  the  stand, 
And  holding  forth  Thy  precious  Word 

In  this  surrounding  land. 

Through  storms  and  tempests  o'er  his  head 

And  persecutions  rife, 
A  pilgrim  to  his  dying  bed 

He  closed  his  mortal  life. 

The  names  of  holy  men  shall  live 

In  hearts  imbued  with  love, 
Till  we  to  God  all  glory  give 

Around  the  throne  above. 


270  The  Life  and  Times  of 

Dear  people,  when  you  meet  around 
This  silent,  sacred  place. 

Step  lightly  on — 'tis  holy  ground — 
Here  lies  a  man  of  grace. 

When  children  come  upon  the  sod 
This  monument  to  view. 

Here  lies  a  holy  man  of  God 
Whose  heart  was  just  and  true. 

With  reverence  and  with  love  to  God 
We  now  have  done  our  part; 

We  leave  our  friend  beneath  the  clod 
With  calm  and  peaceful  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  year  1870  brings  with  it  but  few  changes  in  the 
life  and  labors  of  our  subject.  He  has  lost  none  of  his 
interest  in  church  work.  His  charges  this  year  are 
v^  Shady  Grove,  Pleasant  Grove,  Bethany  and  Mt.Moriah, 
all  of  Wake  county.  The  developnaent  and  growth 
which  had  been  so  marked  in  all  the  churches  for  the 
past  few  years  move  steadily  onward.  One  encourage- 
ing  feature  is  the  Sunday  school  interest  which  the 
country  churches  now  begin  to  enter  into  with  an  ef- 
fort not  heretofore  witnessed.  This  work  was  heartily 
endorsed  by  him,  and  he  often  spoke  of  the  readiness 
of  Sabbath  school  scholars  to  accept  Christ.  It  is  true 
many  churches  had  engaged  in  this  work  long  before 
this  period,  yet  the  increased  facilities,  and  the  earnest 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  271 

efforts  put  forth  by  many  pastors  and  active  lay 
brethren  gave  a  new  impetus  to  the  cause  of  Sunday 
schools  about  this  period. 

The  grand  results  attending  this  work  were  so  evi- 
dent everywhere,  both  among  christians  and  the  un- 
regenerated,  that  it  gathered  increased  interest  as  it 
went,  and  in  a  few  years  was  regarded  by  most  reli- 
gious denominations  as  one  of  the  important  means  of 
evangelizing  the  world.  It  was  the  custom  of  most 
country  churches  in  middle  North  Carolina  to  have 
only  monthly  preaching,  One  Saturday  and  Sabbath 
of  each  month  w^as  set  apart  for  regular  service.  Many 
ministers  had  charge  of  four  churches.  It  was  usually 
so  with  father,  and  often  in  the  week  and  on  fifth  Sun- 
days he  preached  funeral  sermons  in  various  locali- 
ties, often  a  great  distance  from  home,  to  be  traveled 
by  private  conveyance. 

As  the  title  of  this  work  is  the  "  Life  and  Times  of 
Johnson  Olive,"  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  say  more  of 
funeral  sermons,  as  this  service  has  undergone  some 
changes  during  the  past  few  years,  and  may  sound 
strangely  to  some  who  may  read  this  work  in  years  to 
come.  From  a  personal  knowledge  of  father's  views 
upon  thj  subject  of  funeral  services,  I  do  not  hesitate 
to  say  that  I  believe  they  were  sound,  and  would  be 
so  considered  by  all  who  understood  him.  I  think  it 
would  be  difficult  to  find  a  minister  who  had  preached 
more  funerals.  This  was  due  to  several  causes.  He 
was  what  is  sometimes  termed  a  man  from  among 
the  people;  mingled  much-  with  the  masses  from 
childhood    to   old    age,    saw   much   of    them,    knew 


272  The  Life  and  Times  of 

much  of  them.  Being  naturally  possessed  of  a  genial, 
jovial,  kind,  sympathetic  nature,  far  removed  from 
hypocrisy  or  deception,  his  word  always  his  bond; 
literally  truthful,  he  made  many  friends.  He  spent 
his  life  among  this  people.  He  seldom  lacked  for  hear- 
ers anywhere.  In  the  circle  of  his  acquaintance  there 
were  some  people  who  never  attended  church,  others 
who  went  but  seldom-,  Often  upon  going  to  some  out- 
of-the-way  place  to  preach  a  funeral  he  met  with  such 
characters.  He  seized  these  opportunities  to  try  to  do 
them  good,  as  well  as  others,  and  often  under  these 
influences  grew  warm  in  spirit,  and  preached  some  of 
his  most  effectual  sermons.  He  lived  to  see  much 
good  result  to  the  living  from  these  sermons,  and  thus 
his  interest  in  such  services  was  deepened,  and  he 
sought  as  hard  to  prepare  himself  for  such  occasions 
as  any  other,  and  many  thought  they  heard  his  best 
preaching  here.  All  have  some  idea  of  the  feeling 
that  permeates  a  vast  audience  assembled  to  pay  the 
last  tribute  of  respect  to  some  man  or  woman  of  prom- 
inence, either  for  good  or  ill  in  the  community.  Upon 
such  occasions  the  heart  is  soft  and  easily  impressed. 
He  seized  such  opportunities  for  good. 

That  this  custom  was  somewhat  abused  he  was 
aware,  and  sought  to  the  extent  of  his  work  to  remedy 
it.  He  objected  to  the  custom  of  preaching  the 
funerals  of  persons  long  since  dead,  especially  in  case 
of  infants,  and  favored  all  funeral  services  at  the  time 
of  burial,  or  soon  after;  yet  he  preached  the  funerals 
of  some  long  after  they  were  dead.  He  was  perhaps 
never  seen  to  get  up  to  preach  upon  such  occasion  that 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  273 

he  did  uot  try  in  the  outset  to  set  all  minds  right  upon 
this  custom,  and  to  impress  ail  that  it  was  for  the  ben- 
efit of  the  living  and  not  the  dead  that  these  services 
were  held.  As  the  tree  fell  so  it  must  lie.  Hence  as 
long  as  he  lived  this  was  a  prominent  part  of  his  min- 
istry. In  one  Association  the  subject  of  funeral  ser- 
mons was  under  discussion.  Some  of  the  brethren 
thought  they  ought  to  be  abolished,  others  entertained 
similar  vi^ws  with  slight  modification.  Father  arose 
and  very  earnestly  spoke  in  behalf  of  this  service  and 
closed  by  saying  they  could  pass  as  many  resolutions 
as  they  chose  condemning  it  but  so  long  as  he  was 
permitted  to  preach  anywhere  he  should  continue  this 
service,  believing  that  in  this  line  of  work  he  had  been 
the  instrument  of  good.  His  faith  in  this  service, 
strengthened  by  what  he  had  witnessed,  perhaps  better 
fitted  him  for  this  department  of  labor.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  many  who  now  live  can  bear  testimony  to  the 
success  of  his  labors  under  this  head,  for  which  he 
seemed  peculiarly  adapted.  There  was  never  a  greater 
demand  upon  him  than  during  the  years  he  is  now 
passing  through  for  preaching  funeral  sermons.  All 
his  energies  and  powers  of  both  mind  and  body  are 
now  employed  to  meet  the  demands  that  are  upon  him. 
He  is  constant  and  steady  in  his  work. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  year  1871  his  son  Thomas 
Jasper  Olive,  so  long  afHicted,  dies.  He  was  fourth 
child  in  age,  and  the  fourth  to  die. 

It  always  appears  that  death  falls  upon  those  mem- 
bers of  the  family  for  whom  some  special  tenderness 
exists.     This  is  not  always  true.     We  do  not  know 


274  The  Life  and  Times  of 

how  precious  opportunities  for  good  in  this  life  are  till 
we  see  them  in  their  flight.  We  do  not  really  know 
our  attachment  to  friends  and  loved  ones  till  called  to 
be  separated  from  them. 

In  the  course  of  time  that  which  was  an  impulse  or 
passion  at  the  beginning  becomes  a  principle,  and  is 
fixed  far  below  the  surface.  Those  who  have  experi- 
enced it  need  not  be  told  that  an  invalid  in  the  family 
is  an  object  of  special  care  and  affection.  How  quick 
the  entire  family  become  aroused  at  injury  or  wrong 
done  such  a  one. 

This  youth,  now  twenty-three  years  of  age,  was 
stricken  with  Pneumonia  at  the  age  of  six  years.  A 
healthy,  robust  child  is  suddenly  prostrated,  and  for 
many  long  weeks  is  completely  helpless.  During  this 
prostration  an  abscess  is  formed  upon  the  lungs,  is 
lanced,  and  for  ten  or  twelve  years  remained  unhealed. 
During  most  of  this  time  he  was  up  and  moving  about 
but  never  saw  another  well  day.  The  side  of  his  body 
in  which  this  trouble  was  seated  grew  but  little  and 
gave  to  him  an  ill  form.  He  spent  most  of  his  life 
about  the  home,  and  was  never  afterwards  enabled  to 
endure  hardship  or  fatigue.  He  was  easily  affected  by 
cold,  and  during  the  winter  of  1870  became  much 
prostrated  by  reason  of  exposure  He  continued  to 
weaken,  and  the  violent  cough  with  other  indications 
pointed  to  an  early  dissolution.  He  continued  to  move 
from  house  to  house  and  about  the  yard ;  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  expectation  of  all  that  he  would  survive 
some  weeks  yet,  he  was  one  morning  seated  by  the 
cheerful  fire  while  father  was  sitting  near  by  reading. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  275 

Suddenly  the  father  hears  a  struggle,  turns  and  gathers 
his  dying  boy  in  his  arms,  with  his  head  upon  his 
breast,  and  in  a  few  moments  what  had  long  been  to 
him  a  tender,  affectionate  boy,  is  a  lifeless  form. 

He  had  early  professed  faith  in  Christ,  and  for  many 
years  been  a  consistent  member  of  the  church.  This 
death  was  met  with  quiet  resignation.  The  father 
often  referring  to  the  deep  feelings  of  his  soul  upon 
this  occasion. 

While  he  had  no  Elisha  to  go  to  for  his  dead  bo}^ 
he  could  truly  commit  him  into  the  hands  of  Elisha's 
God,  believing  that  he  had  gone  to  join  his  two 
brothers  and  his  sister  in  a  land  that  is  free  from  pain. 

The  few  years  that  here  follow,  from  1871  to  1875, 
are  not  marked  by  any  incidents  of  special  interest. 
The  religious  work  that  had  been  organized  during 
the  five  or  six  years  just  past  moves  steadily  and  suc- 
cessfully onward.  The  minister  finds  his  work  less 
difficult  than  formerly.  During  these  years  his  pas- 
toral labors  are  spent  among  the  churches  of  Shady 
Grove,  Pleasant  Grove,  Bethany  and  Mount  Moriah. 
The  church  at  Mount  Moriah  had,  soon  after  his  en- 
trance upon  work  there  in  1868,  given  him  an  indefi- 
nite call,  to  be  terminated  wheneve'r  church  or  pastor 
thought,  from  any  cause,  a  change  necessary.  Chris- 
tian work  among  all  of  father's  churches  was  now 
pleasant,  and  reasonably  successful. 

The  customs  of  the  times  was  to  hold  a  series  of  ser- 
vices once  in  two  or  three  years  with  each  church  as 
opportunity  seemed  to  present  itself,  and  as  the  spirit 
lead  the  hearts  of  the  people.     He  was  permitted  to 


276  The  Life  and  TniKis  of 

witness  many  gracious  outpourings  of  the  Spirit  upon 
bis  churches  and  congregations  during  this  period. 
There  was  everywhere  growth  and  devolopment  among 
Christians,  and  many  accessions  to  the  church  from 
the  ranks  of  the  unregenerate.  He  preaches  no  new 
doctrines,  but  takes  up  the  old,  old  story  with  warmth, 
earnestness  and  clearness.  The  changes  that  the  five 
years  of  inactivity  had  wrought  upon  his  ministry 
were  often  at  this  time  the  subject  of  discourse  among 
his  acqaintances. 

We  think  we  here  pen  a  verdict  that  was  sanctioned 
by  the  great  majority.  He  was  more  bold,  inore  frank, 
had  less  desire  to  please  men,  and  had  more,  if  possi- 
ble, to  please  God.  Possessed  the  courage  of  his  con- 
victions and  was  more  obedient  to  the  voice  of  con- 
science. A  closer  and  keener  observer  of  all  that 
passed  under  his  knowledge.  His  mind  clearer  and  his 
memory  more  tenacious. 

Many  persons  regarded  the  period  of  retirement  as 
the  ripening  period  during  which  time  those  qualities 
of  merit  he  had  formerly  exhibited  reached  a  rich 
state  of  maturity,  and  thus  he  was  better  enabled  to 
come  more  boldly  up  to  duty  and  take  up  the  cross 
though  it  was  heavy.  The  subject  of  Education,  Home 
and  Foreign  Missions,  &c.,  were  objects  that  had  been 
receiving  and  were  now  receiving  a  good  share  of  at- 
tention from  the  Baptists  of  the  State,  as  well  as  many 
other  religious  denominations.  He  was  friendly  to 
them  all,  and  his  churches  were  among  the  most  lib- 
eral country  churches  of  the  middle  portion  of  the' 
State.     He,  however,  did   not  consider  man  as  perfect- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  277 

or  his  works  even  in  such  noble  causes  as  being  with- 
out fault,  and  ever  liable  to  take  on  some  error.  He 
sometimes  spoke  freely  of  the  abuses  to  which  these 
worthy  objects  were  subject,  not  however,  to  the  det- 
riment of  true  progress  that  I  know.  He  favored  edu- 
cation, and  advocated  an  educated  ministry,  yet  ever 
tried  to  impress  upon  his  hearers  that  the  grand  prepa- 
ration must  come  from  God,  and  that  the  preparations 
that  man  could  add,  while  good  and  commendable, 
were  only  secondary  to  a  successful  ministry.  He  ever 
plead  for  the  humble,  faithful,  unlettered  man  of  God, 
who  was  by  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit  cutting  down 
the  forest  and  clearing  up  the  Gospel  field  with  little 
or  no  reward,  save  what  his  Heavenly  Father  gave 
him.  He  plead  that  such  should  not  be  overlooked  or 
undervalued.  He  was  at  times  impressed  that  there 
was  danger  in  relying  too  much  upon  men  and  money 
for  the  evangelization  of  the  world.  He  did  not  un- 
dervalue means,  but  held  them  as  subordinate;  that 
in  our  zeal  to  bring  the  world  to  Christ  we  must  re- 
member that  it  is  not  by  might  nor  by  power,  bat  "  by 
My  Spirit  "saith  the  Lord.  He  believed  fully  in  the 
part  the  Spirit  was  to  perform,  and  without  this  there 
could  be  no  effectual  work  done. 

I  here  give  a  brief  of  a  discourse  he  sometimes  de- 
livered upon  the  subject  of  missions.  We  give  this 
that  he  may  go  upon  reeord  honestly  and  truthfully  : 


278  The  Life  and  Times  of 


Let  this  mind  be  in  you  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus. — 
Phil.  2:5. 

The  \^ord  mission  defined — The  true  principle  of  a 
missionary — The  negative  principle. 

It  does  not  consist  in  money  given  ;  a  great  deal  has 
been  given  in  the  name  of  missions  when  the  giver 
was  far  removed  from  the  true  missionary  spirit; 
Christ  is  the  true  pattern  of  a  missionary;  he  that  has 
the  mind  or  spirit  of  Christ  is  a  missionary.  Calcula- 
ting the  mission  principle  of  men,  churches  and  asso- 
ciations by  the  amount  given  in  money  has  brought 
about  a  misnomer,  and  has  caused  the  name  "Mission- 
ary" to  sound  unpleasant  to  the  minds  of  some.  In- 
stance: Conversations  with  some  persons,  mission  ser- 
mons, their  erroneous  ideas  of  doctrine,  more  money 
given,  more  souls  saved,  more  given  more  will  be  re- 
ceived by  the  giver.  Let  money  out  at  interest  with 
God  as  surety.  To  be  a  missionary  in  the  true  sense 
of  the  word  is  to  be  of  the  mind  of  Christ  Jesus. 

The  true  principle  of  a  missionary  consists  in  an  en- 
tire consecration  to  God. 

These  extracts  are  not  calculated  to  do  full  justice 
to  our  subject  on  every  occasion,  as  they  were  his 
thoughts  occurring  at  random,  and  penned  merely  as 
a  matter  of  reference,  and  how  much  revised  before 
delivering  them  from  the  stand  I  do  not  know;  yet 
many  will  recognize  the  man  in  these  brief  outlines. 
It  is  but  reasonable  to  suppose  that  while  our  churches 
were  reorganizing  these  grand  objects  of  christian 
labor  during  the  few  years  that  followed  the  great 
civil  conflict,  that  some  good  men  in  their  zeal  pressed 
some  of  the  points  referred  to  in  the  foregoing  notes 


Rev.  Johi^son   Olive.  279 

beyond  the  proper  limits.  A  few  years  of  time  aud 
thought  with  wise  and  just  criticism  greatly  improved 
the  means  of  gathering  support  for  these  objects,  and 
the  great  good  that  soon  became  evident  commended 
them  to  all. 

In  the  commencement  of  1875  father  began  to  serve 
as  pastor  of  Holly  Springs  and  New  Belhel  Churches, 
where  he  remained  in  that  capacity  till  time  of  his 
death.  He  was  still  pastor  at  Mt.  Moriah  and  Shady 
Grove. 

At  this  time  it  was  beginning  to  be  a  custom  with 
many  churches  to  call  for  life  or  indefinitely.  This 
was  quite  congenial  to  his  age  and  present  state  of 
feeling.  He  is  yet  active  and  full  of  zeal  for  the  cause, 
and  is  now  well  nigh  cut  loose  from  all  worldly  cares, 
and  much  consecrated  to  his  chosen  work.  His  ex- 
penses of  living  are  small;  he  has  turned  over  his 
farm  mainly  to  others,  and  lives  principally  of  the 
means  contributed  to  him  by  his  churches,  which  for 
the  times  were  always  liberal.  The  five  years  that 
now  follow  are  years  of  quiet,  earnest  work,  realizing 
perhaps  fewer  changes  for  the  same  length  of  t.me 
than  at  any  other  period  of  his  life. 

In  1876  he  changes  his  pastorate  from  Shady  Grove 
to  Olive's  Chapel  Church,  and  now  has  for  a  successive 
period  of  six  years  the  pastoral  charge  of  Olive's 
Chapel,  Holly  Spring,  New  Bethel  and  Mt.  Moriah.  He 
spends  much  of  his  time  with  the  people  of  these  local- 
ities. He  is  usually  prompt  in  his  attendance,  allow- 
ing nothing  save  providential  hinderances  to  keep 
him  away. 


280  The  Life  and  Times  of 

During  these  years  of  service  the  ties  of  love  and 
friendship  so  long  existing  between  himself  and  many 
persons  in  these  communities  were  greatly  strength- 
ened ;  church,  congregation  and  pastor  seemed  alike 
pleased,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  much 
good  in  the  name  of  the  Master  was  accomplished 
during  these  years.  His  churches  made  fair  progress 
in  the  increase  of  members  and  in  the  development  of 
grace  among  their  members.  Their  coutsibutions  to 
all  christian  work  were  liberal.  All  were  visited  with 
seasons  of  divine  grace  from  time  to  time;  peace  and 
order  never  was  less  disturbed.  While  he  never  ceased 
to  exhort  sinners  to  repentance,  tow^ards  the  closing 
years  of  his  life  his  ministry  was  more  abounding  in 
entreaMes  to  the  church  and  advice  to  christians, 
urging  them  to  consecrate  their  lives  to  Christ  and  to 
be  faithful  to  the  end. 

As  best  illustrating  the  character  of  his  ministry  at 
this  period  we  give  two  skeletons  of  sermons,  the  first 
appropriate  to  all,  but  especially  to  the  unregenerate. 

First : 

Enter  ye  in  at  the  straight  gate,  for  wide  is  the  gate  and 
broad  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction,  and  many  there 
ha  which  go  in  thereat ;  because  straight  is  the  gate  and  nar- 
row is  the  way  which  leadeth  unto  Ufe,  and  few  there  be  that 
find  it. —Matt.  7:  13,  14. 

The  striking  admonition  of  the  text:  All  mankind 
are  represented  here  as  travelers,  and  all  bound  to  one 
of  two  places,  heaven  or  hell.  These  two  ways  are 
here  described,  and  the  end  of  each  given.     The  one 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  281 

agreeable  to  the  flesh,  but  the  end  is  destruction.  The 
other  as  being  hard  and  disagreeable  to  the  flesh,  but 
the  end  eternal  life.  If  you  incline  to  the  broad  way, 
it  has  many  things  to  recommend  it  to  your  choice, 
some  of  which  we  will  name:  First,  you  will  have 
no  difflculty  in  entering  upon  it.  'Tis  a  wide  gate. 
Second,  in  your  pregress  in  this  way  you  will  have 
full  scope  to  gratify  your  inclinations,  for  it  is  a  broad 
way,  and  while  there  is  but  one  way  to  heaven,  and 
that  way  narrow  and  straight,  the  road  to  hell  admits 
of  many  avenues,  divisions  and  sub-divisions,  out  of 
which  you  may  take  your  choice.  Third,  you  will  be 
in  no  w^ant  of  suitable  companions  there,  for  many  go 
this  way ;  but  remember,  the  end  is  destruction. 
Should  there  be  any  who  incline  to  the  straight  gate, 
I  would  advise  all  such  to  first  set  down  and  count  up 
the  cost.  You  may  find  great  difficulties  in  entering 
upon  the  way,  for  straight  is  the  gate.  You  may  meet 
with  difficulties  and  hard  struggles  in  your  journey, 
for  it  is  a  narrow  way.  In  pursuing  this  way  you 
may  have  but  little  company,  for  few  there  be  that 
find  it. 

We  say  to  all,  life  and  death  are  set  before  you ; 
make  now  your  choice. 

Second  : 

Let  us  therefore  follow  after  the  things  which  make  for 
peace,  and  things  wherewith  one  may  edify  another. — Romans 
14:17. 

Peace,  a  blessing  greatly  to  be  desired.  We  should, 
however,  not  be  so  fond  of  peace  as  to  accept  it  upon 
a  sandy  foundation.  We  should  never  sacrifice  truth, 
either  to  make  or  to  preserve  peace.  We  should  never 
attempt  to  preserve  peace  at  the  expense  of  righteousness. 
In  order  that  we  may  follow  after  those  things  which 


282  The  Life  and  Times  of 

make  for  peace  we  submit  the  following  rules  and  ob- 
servations to  your  prayerful  consideration  :  Be  careful 
to  cultivate  a  spirit  of  love,  guard  against  sin,  beware 
of  a  disputatious  temper,  avoid  a  spirit  of  envy,  guard 
against  a  sensitive  disposition,  strive  to  heal  differ- 
ences, encourage  no  tale-bearer,  be  ever  ready  to  for- 
give. These  are  some  of  the  things  which  we  should 
cultivate  in  our  minds  in  order  that  we  may  follow 
those  things  which  make  for  peace.  Peace  is  closely 
connected  with  church  prosperity  and  to  soul  pros- 
perity. Our  Lord  shed  His  blood  to  obtain  peace  be- 
tween us  and  God.  Consider  its  usefulness  upon  spec- 
tators, friends,  enemies,  young  converts,  and  other 
churches. 

Although  the  general  spirit  of  father's  discourses 
was  more  profound,  they  were  not  lacking  in  life,  but 
still  abounded  in  hope,  and  were  delivered  with  a  force 
and  zeal  not  common  to  old  age. 

We  have  now  reached  1880.  No  change  in  the  pas- 
torate of  the  four  churches  last  named  has  yet  taken 
place;  his  health  is  yet  reasonably  good  for  one  of  his 
age;  having  a  wiry  constitution,  he  has  ever  with- 
stood extremes  of  cold  and  heat  better  than  the  aver- 
age man.  Pew  men  could  ride  so  long  in  the  cold. 
He  perceives  now  that  his  ability  to  withstand  such 
exposure  is  declining,  and  in  consequence  of  repeated 
attacks  of  cold,  resulting  from  long  journeys  in  disa- 
greeable weather  to  meet  his  appointments,  he  now 
finds  it  expedient  to  remain  at  home  many  times 
in  winter  to  the  disappointment  of  his  congregation. 
He,  however,  was  yet  fully  in  the  work  and  pursued 
his  studies  with  the  same  interest  of  former  years,  and 
was  as  eager  to  meet  his  appointments  and  preach  to  the 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  283 

people  as  at  any  time  in  his' life,  and  allowed  nothing 
over  which  he  had  control  to  interfere  with  this  duty. 
He  was  through  all  these  years  a  ready  talker,  jovial 
and  easy  in  manners  almost  to  a  fault.  At  no  time 
did  he  enjoy  a  higher  degree  of  confidence  among  his 
churches  than  at  this  time.  There  is  now  on  the  part 
of  many  a  feeling  toward  him  akin  to  that  of  a  son 
or  daughter  for  a  kind  father.  They  could  approach 
him  with  a  freedom  and  ease  rarely  existing  between 
people  in  this  life;  and  not  a  single  instance  can  be 
cited  where  harm  grew  out  of  this  confidence. 


/ 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

The  year  1881  will  be  noted  for  the  great  temper- 
ance movement  in  North  Carolina.  By  act  of  the 
Legislature  which  assembled  during  the  previous 
wintel*  the  prohibition  question  was  submitted  to  the 
qualified  voters  of  the  State.  A  very  interesting  and 
exciting  canvass  of  this  question  through  the  news- 
papers, circulars,  tracts,  and  from  the  rostrum  and  the 
stump  followed.  The  ministry  of  most  denominations 
favored  the  measure.  Some  of  them  were  active  in 
instructing  the  people  upon  this  important  question. 
Father  moved  very  quietly  and  slowly  in  this  in- 
stance. Being  of  a  conservative  turn  of  mind  gener- 
ally, he  feared  the  sacred  stand  might  be  lowered  in 
its  dignity  and  importance,  and  lose  some  of  its  power 
for  good.     He  rather  leaned  in   the  outset  to  moral 


284  The  Life  and  Times  of 

suasion,  but  as  the  campaign  neared  the  end,  and  as 
he  read  and  investigated  the  subject  more  closely,  and 
understood  the  advocates  of  both  sides,  he-  declared 
his  faith  in  the  cause  of  prohibition,  believing  it  to  be 
the  cause  of  God.  He  only  spoke  with  his  friends  in 
private  for  awhile,  but  at  length  seeing  the  advocates 
of  license  using  his  name  in  their  behalf,  he  wrote  a 
note  to  the  Biblical  Recorder,  wherein  he  stated  that 
his  friends  very  much  misunderstood  him  if  they 
thought  he  would  throw  his  influence  in  the  interest 
of  the  whiskey  traffic.  The  question  that  had  most 
weight  with  him  was  the  idea  that  the  government 
should  license  an  evil  so  destructive  of  the  welfare  of 
her  citizens,  a  thing  directly  in  conflict  v/ith  her  pur- 
poses and  aims.  ^ 

Seeing  so  much  division  among  his  people  upon 
this  subject,  he  thought  it  bes  tnot  to  agitate  it  among 
his  churches,  but  trusted  to  mild,  gentle  influ- 
ences, believing  that  when  they  came  to  understand 
and  appreciate  the  situation,  that  they  would  do 
what  was  right.  He  considered  how  difficult  it  was 
to  work  a  revolution  in  sentiment,  and  how  slowly  re- 
forms usually  move,  and  chose  to  patiently  await  the 
great  change  that  was  coming.  It  would  thereby  take 
deeper  root,  and  consequently  result  in  greater  good. 

During  these  years  of  his  life  he  was  really  less  im- 
pressed by  passing  events,  and  his  ministry  was  con- 
stantly directed  towards  the  cross  of  Christ  and  the 
shore  beyond.  He  labored  faithfully  to  win  souls  to 
Christ,  to  strengthen  Christians  and  awaken  all  to  ac- 
tive life.     With  great  earnestness  he  depicted  the  hor- 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  285 

rors  of  sin  and  the  beauties  of  holiness;  the  dangers 
of  delay,  the  duty  of  promptness. 

From  1881  he  began  to  realize  that  his  powers  of 
endurance  were  failing,  and  desired  to  diminish  his 
labors.  He  found  it  impossible  to  attend  his  appoint- 
ments promptly.  Seldom  confined  to  his  room,  but 
often  too  feeble  to  go  away  from  home.  The  churches 
were  slow  to  give  him  up.  At  times  his  health  would 
revive,  and  he  would  go  about  his  pastoral  work  with 
as  much  eagerness  as  ever.  Thus  he  spent  most  of  the 
remaining  days  of  his  life.  A  sense  of  duty  to  him- 
self, to  his  brethren  and  to  the  cause  impelled  him  to 
reduce  his  labors.  In  1882  his  labors  were  limited  to 
Pleasant  Grove,  near  where  he  lived,  New  Bethel  and 
Mount  Moriah.  Notwithstanding  his  decline  in  health 
and  frequent  absence,  his  charges  were  still  blessed 
with  a  fair  degree  of  prosperity.  There  were  many  lay 
brethren  who  were  active  workers,  and  would  readily 
conduct  a  prayer  meeting  service  in  his  absence.  Be- 
sides, during  these  years  of  service  several  promising 
young  ministers  had  been  reared  up  in  his  churches, 
who,  upon  occasions  ol  his  absence,  often  conducted 
the  services.  In  this  way  light  and  life  were  still  pre-' 
served  during  his  years  of  feebleness  among  the 
churches  of  his  charge.  Toward  the  close  of  1883  he 
tendered  his  resignation  as  pastor  to  the  church  at 
Mount  Moriah.  He  had  served  here  successively  since 
the  beginning  of  the  year  1868,  a  period  of  sixteen 
years.  A  large  number  of  its  membership  then  exist- 
ing had  come  in  during,  his  pastorate.  His  labors 
here  had  been  signally  blessed.     No  stronger  earthly 


286  The  Life  and  Times  of 

ties  could  possibly  exist.  Their  doors,  their  hearts, 
their  purses  were  always  open  to  him.  Father's  coun- 
tenance always  beamed  with  joy  when  he  spoke  of 
Mount  Moriah  and  her  people.  He  had  some  warm 
friends  here  whose  conversions  he  was  never  permitted 
to  witness.  They  contributed  liberally  to  his  support, 
attended  his  preaching,  and  often  had  him  to  spend  a 
night  or  evening  with  them.  May  his  labors  and 
prayers  for  them  not  be  in  vain.  Dear  reader,  are  you 
that  man  ?     Try  to  meet  him   in   heaven. 

The  occasion  of  his  taking  leave  of  the  church  will 
long  live  in  the  memory  of  this  people.  He  prepared 
some  verses  expressive  in  some  degree  of  his  feelings 
upon  taking  leave  of  this  congregation : 

"SOME  VERSES 

Selected,  composed  and  arranged  by  the  Pastor  of 
Mt.  Moriah  Church,  to  be  sung  on  his  taking  leave 
of  the  church  and  congregation  after  his  resigna- 
TION. 

Farewell,  my  dear  brethren,  farewell  for  awhile. 
We'll  soon  meet  again  if  kind  Providence  smile ; 
And  when  we  are  parted  and  scattered  abroad, 
We'll  pray  for  each  other  and  trust  in  the  Lord, 

Farewell,  younger  brethren  just  listed  for  war — 
Sore  trials  await  you,  but  Jesus  is  near; 
He's  full  of  compassion  and  mighty  to  save— 
His  arms  are  extended  your  souls  to  receive. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  287 

The  world,  the  devil  and  sin  all  unite 
,       In  bold  opposition  your  souls  to  affright  ; 
But  Jesus,  your  leader,  is  stronger  than  they; 
Let  this  animate  you,  and  march  on  your  way. 

Farewell  loving  sisters,  your  bounty,  is  large, 
In  love  and  friendship  your  duty  discharge; 
Although  you,  like  Mary  and  Martha  of  old, 
When  Jesus  is  coming  your  sorrows  unfold. 

Your  homes  have  been  lovely  and  pleasant  to  me 
When  sharing  your  bounty  and  friendship  so  free; 
And  when  I  am  travelling  and  lonely  do  roam, 
I'll  always  rejoice  to  think  of  your  home. 

Farewell  younger  children  in  Sunday  School  bound. 
While  some  of  your  members  the  Savior  has  found. 
Although  you  are  young  and  so  tender  in  age, 
King  Jesus  is  coming  your  souls  to  engage. 

Farewell  friendly  sinner,  for  you  I  must   grieve, 
To  think  of  your  danger  while  careless  you  live ; 
The  Judgment  approaches,  oh !  think  of  your  doom ! 
And  turn  to  the  Savior  while  yet  you  have  room. 

Farewell  Mount  Moriah,  the  church  of  my  care — 
My  love  and  affection  you  ever  shall  share; 
And  when  I  am  absent  and  travelling  alone. 
I'll  pray  for  this  people  who  seem  like  my  own. 

Farewell  congregation,  farewell  all  around. 
Perhaps  we'll  not  meet  till  the  last  trump  shall  sound ; 
To  meet  me  in  glory  please  now  take  your  stand — 
Our  Savior  to  praise  in  the  heavenly  band." 

A  good  brother  of  Mt.  Moriah  Church  writes  that  no 
one  can  fully  appreciate  these  verses  and  the  occasion 


288  The  Life  and  Times  of 

upon  which  they  were  used  who  was  not  present.  He 
was  very  much  in  the  spirit  on  that  day — all  the 
powers  of  the  soul  at  play.  After  reading  the  verses 
in  a  clear,  impressive  tone,  he  sang  them  with  much 
power  and  unction,  and  when  he  had  closed  there 
were  few  dry  eyes  in  the  large  congregation.  He  had 
a  clear,  musical  voice,  full  of  pathos,  and  could  throw 
the  whole  powers  of  his  soul  into  it  asfew  men  could  do. 
The  brother  above  referred  to  adds:  "In  speaking 
of  his  singing  it  recalls  to  my  mind  a  picture  I  shall 
never  forget.  It  was  the  last  night  he  spent  at  my 
house,  and  was  on  the  occasion  of  his  last  visit  as 
pastor  to  Mt.  Moriah  Church.  There  were  a  few  friends 
besides  him  with  us,  and  the  crowd  had  been  singing, 
accompanied  by  the  organ.  Brother  Olive  was  asked 
to  sing  a  few  pieces  alone  with  the  organ.  He  called 
for  two  or  three  of  his  old  favorite  pieces  and  sang 
while  the  organ  played.  He  threw  his  whole  soul  into 
them,  and  appeared  to  be  almost  oblivious  to  his  sur- 
roundings, and  carried  away  in  the  spirit  to  other 
scenes  of  bliss  and  joy,  and  to  be  enjoying  an  antepart 
of  heaven.  All  seemed  to  be  inspired  with  a  feeling 
akin  to  awe.  The  atmosphere  of  the  room  seemed 
charged,  and  the  Holy  Spirit's  presence  appeared  to  be 
felt.  While  thinking  of  him  as  he  appeared  that 
night,  his  age,  his  bright  face,  beaming  with  honesty, 
peace  and  joy,  his  far-away  look,  &c.,  I  was  forcibly 
reminded  of  St.  Paul's  triumphant  expression  :  "  I  have 
fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have 
kept  the  faith  ;  henceforth   there  is  laid  up  for  me  a 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  289 

crown  of  righteousness  which  the   Lord  the   righteous 
Judge  shall  give  me,"&c.,  &c 

As  an  evidence  of  the  feeling  on  the  part  of  Mt- 
Moriah  Church  in  accepting  his  resignation,  we  here 
append  a  resolution  adopted  by  that  church  at  the 
time  : 

A  TESTIMONIAL. 

Whereas,  Our  aged  and  beloved  pastor,  Rev.  Johnson 
Olive,  whose  earnest  and  faithful  labors  as  pastor  of  Mt.  Moriah 
Church  for  the  past  fifteen  years  has  been  signally  blessed 
and  honored  of  God  in  the  conversion  of  many  souls,  and  the 
building  up  of  the  church,  has  been  impelled  by  advanced  age, 
failing  health  and  the  great  distance  from  his  home,  to  resign 
a  charge  which  he  has  advanced  from  a  weak  and  inefficient 
one,  to  one  of  the  most  prosperous,  benevolent  and  zealous  in 
the  Raleigh  Association,  no  less  than  two  hundred  having  been 
added  to  its  membership  during  his  pastorate,  among  whom 
are  many  of  the  most  zealous,  active  and  useful  christians; 

Therefore  he  it  resolved,  That  while  we  believe  it  to  be  our 
faithful  duty  to  accept  his  resignation  as  pastor,  yet  it  is  with 
the  greatest  sorrow  and  regret  that  we  sever  a  relation  which 
has  been  so  dear,  pleasant  and  agreeable  in  all  respects,  and 
in  every  way  accompanied  by  such  happy  results. 

Resolved  farther,  That  Mt.  Moriah  Church  tenders  him  a 
hearty  invitation  to  visit  us  as  often  as  he  can  do  so,  assurinsr 
him  that  the  prayers  and  best  wishes  of  this  church  shall  ac- 
company him  wherever  he  may  under  the  providence  of  God 
be  called  to  labor.  We  pray  that  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord 
may  continue  to  prosper  under  his  hand,  and  that  his  path- 
way may  be  as  the  shining  light  that  groweth  brighter  until 
the  perfect  day.  And  finally,  when  his  labors  are  ended,  that 
he  may  tiear  the  welcome:  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful 
servant,  enter  thou  into  the  Joy  of  thy  Lord." 

13 


290  The  Life  and  Times  of 

Thus  ended  a  long,  happy  and  prosperous  relation- 
ship. He  lived  but  little  over  one  year  from  the  ter- 
mination of  this  pleasant  union.  He  was  not  per- 
mitted to  be  with  this  people  much  during  the  short 
time  remaining  to  him,  but  we  feel  assured  that  the 
spirit  pervading  both  song  and  resolutions  was  never 
departed  from. 

During  1884  he  preached  at  Gary  Church  twice  each 
month,  and  at  Holly  Spring  and  New  Bethel  each  once 
per  month,  all  of  these  appointments  being  within  a 
few  hours'  ride  of  his  home.  Everything  about  the 
man  indicated  that  he  felt  that  his  days  were  about 
ended  ;  yet  he  was  far  from  being  sad,  gloomy  or  de- 
spondent. At  times  he  spoke  freely  and  cheerfully 
upon  this  subject,  and  would  sometimes  ask  his  com- 
panion what  she  would  do  in  case  of  his  death,  and 
otherwise  advise  with  her  as  to  her  best  course  to  pur- 
sue in  case  of  his  departure.  She  generally  answered 
that  she  might  depart  first.  He  very  feelingly  stated 
that  he  did  not  feel  so  ;  that  his  time  was  short;  that 
he  was  ready  and  willing  to  die;  his  feelings  shrank 
from  the  thought  of  leaving  friends  and   loved   ones 

here,   but   there    were    many    to   join    on    the   other 
shore. 

Through  the  greater  part  of  the  year  1884  he  was 
enabled  to  attend  most  of  his  appointments.  His 
preaching  was  much  as  it  had  been  for  several  years 
past,  and  his  churches  were  usually  prosperous. 

During  the  fall  of  this  year  he  had  the  most  serious 
attack  experienced  thus  far  during  his  life.  The  cause 
seemed  to  be  the  loss  of  force  about  the  liver.     He  was 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  291 

much  prostrated,  and  at  times  hope  of  his  recovery 
was  abandoned.  The  least  exertion  resulted  in  sink- 
ing down  and  loss  of  all  consciousness  for  a  moment, 
which  very  much  excited  his  family,  but  disappeared 
as  soon  as  strength  was  regained.  He  was  unable  to 
be  at  his  appointments  during  the  closing  months  of 
this  year.  He  seemed  impressed  with  the  truth  that 
his  earthly  labors  were  drawing  to  a  close.  He  had 
long  felt  deep  concern  for  his  aged  companion  who 
had  entered  upon  life's  voyage  with  him  in  the  days 
of  his  youth,  when  hope  was  strong  and  prospects 
bright  for  a  happy  voyage.  And  in  memory  of  her 
faithfulness  in  health,  in  affliction  and  in  death  in  the 
family,  and  most  of  all  her  untiring  devotion  to  him 
through  weal  and  through  woe,  her  love,  her  kindness, 
her  attention  never  abating  through  his  long  years  of 
darkness  and  despair,  he  at  last  resolved  to  leave  his 
quiet,  peaceful  home,  his  kind  and  afiPectionate  neigh- 
bors, and  look  for  a  home  where  his  companion  could 
be  more  in  company  in  his  absencej'and  have  more 
convenient  protection  in  case  of  his  departure.  He 
accordingly  made  selection  of  a  home  in  the  village  of 
Apex,  Wake  county,  and  on  the  9th  day  of  December, 
1884,  entered  the  same  with  the  expectation  of  spend- 
ing here  the  remainder  of  his  life.  Being  yet  feeble, 
unfavorable  weather  kept  him  much  at  home  during 
the  few  weeks  that  followed. 

He  attended  the  Sunday  School  Christmas  tree  at 
Apex  Baptist  church  on  the  night  of  Christmas  eve, 
and  greatly  enjoyed  the  presence  of  the  children.     He 


292  The  Life  and  Times  op 

seemed    to   have  a  live  conce[)tion   of  their   anxiety 
about  the  presents. 

For  the  year  1885  he  had  accepted  the  pastorate  of 
Holly  Spring,  Swift  Creek,  Gary  and  New  Bethel 
churches,  and  on  the  2nd  Saturday  in  January,  hav- 
ing gained  much  strength  during  the  past  four  weeks, 
he  went  to  his  appointment  at  Holly  Spring  and 
preached  Saturday  and  Sunday.  On  Sunday  he 
preached  from  2nd  chapter  of  Phillipians,  16th  verse: 
"  Holding  forth  the  word  of  life  that  I  may  rejoice  in 
the  day  of  Christ  that  I  have  no't  run  in  vain,  neither 
labored  in  vain." 

This  was  his  last  regular  sermon.  He  made  no  al- 
lusion to  any  impression  on  his  own  mind  of  this  na- 
ture, yet  he  could  not  have  selected  a  more  appro- 
priate text  had  he  been  so  impressed.  It  was  here  in 
August,  1860,  that  he  preached  his  last  sermon  before 
darkness  came  over  his  mind,  and  it  was  here  that  he 
preached  his  last  on  earth.  Many  of  his  brethren  and 
sisters  thought  this  the  best  sermon  of  his  life.  He 
returned  home  Sabbath  evening,  went  by  invitation  to 
the  prayer  meeting  that  night  at  the  Baptist  church, 
and  conducted  the  exercises  by  reading  a  portion  of 
Scripture  and  making  some  remarks  therefrom,  occu- 
pying the  floor.  During  the  early  part  of  the  week 
following  he  was  summoned  to  Raleigh  as  witness  in 
Superior  Court.  On  his  return  he  appeared  much  re- 
vived, as  he  here  met  with  many  friends  whom  he 
had  not  seen  for  a  great  while.  On  his  return  home 
Wednesday  night  some  friends  stopped  with  him  for 
the  night.     With  them  and  some  of  his  neighbors  he 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  293 

set  up  to  a  late  hour  discussing  the  difFerebt  features 
of  his  new  home,  his  visit  to  the  city,  &c.,  with  much 
animation  and  interest.  This  was  the  last  night  spent 
in  health  on  earth.  How  little  any  of  us  know  of  the 
future.  The  next  day  the  disease  whereof  he  died  set 
to  work.  At  night  I  was  summoned  to  go  to  see  him. 
I  found  him  laying  down  and  in  much  pain,  which 
indicated  torpidity  of  the  liver.  He  suffered  greatly 
at  times  until  about  11  o'clock,  when  he  grew  easy  and 
rested  well  during  the  remainder  of  the  night. 

There  was  no  improvement  from  this  time  onward. 
He  experienced  very  little  pain  after  the  first  few 
hours  from  the  attack,  but  was  so  much  prostrated 
thereby  that  he  never  regained  strength,  but  contin- 
ued to  grow  weaker  each  day.  No  alarm  was  felt  till 
Sunday  morning. 

Early  after  breakfast  I  went  to  see  him,  and  found 
him  cheerful  and  free  to  talk,  as  far  as  his  strength 
would  permit.  While  reading  some  brief  extracts 
from  the  papers  upon  subjects  usually  interesting  to 
him,  I  saw  the  marks  of  fever  upon  his  cheeks  He 
dropped  to  sleep  and  began  talking  at  random  upon 
the  subject  suggested  by  our  reading.  Upon  arousing 
up  he  showed  that  his  condition  was  more  critical. 

The  village  physician,  who  had  been  absent  up  to 
this  time,  (as  had  also  his  former  family  physician) 
was  now  summoned  to  his  bedside.  Father  was  ac- 
quainted of  our  move  before  the  arrival  of  the  phy- 
sician, and  cheerfully  submitted  to  our  wish.  Every 
attention  possible  was  now  given  ;  many  friends  and 
kindred  called  to  see  him ;  he  appeared  to  suffer  but 


294  The  Life  and  Times  of 

little;  was  quiet;  spoke  when  called  upon  to  speak; 
was  perfectly  rational;  recognized  all,  yet  from  weak- 
ness preferred  not  to  talk,  and  to  lie  most  of  the  time 
in  perfect  quiet.  His  thirst  for  water  was  insatiate, 
and  in  order  to  break  the  monotony  of  his  continued 
plea  in  a  weak  voice,  he  occasionally  repeated  the  Ian 
guage  of  David  while  in  the  cave  of  Adullam:  "Oh! 
that  some  one  would  give  me  drink  from  the  well  that 
stands  by  the  gate  of  Bethlehem," 

His  inability  to  talk  with  any  degree  of  ease  led  him 
to  seek  quiet  through  his  sickness,  and  thus  he  said  but 
little  during  the  last  few  days  of  his  life.  This  led 
many  of  his  friends  to  think  he  did  not  know  them, 
but  to  those  who  were  much  with  him  it  was  appar- 
ent that  he. knew  perfectly  well  all  that  was  passing 
around  him,  and  readily  recognized  the  voice  of  an 
acquaintance.  When  informed  of  the  presence  of 
any  one,  he  gave  ready  recognition  by  a  nod  of 
the  head,  seldom  opening  his  eyes  for  any  purpose. 

One  friend  whom  he  had  known  from  childhood, 
and  had  taught  in  former  days  as  pupil,  and  who  had 
ever  occupied  a  warm  place  in  his  afiPections,  called  to 
see  him  a  few  days  before  his  death.  Finding  him  so 
weak  he  remained  some  time  before  addressing  him- 
self to  father.  At  length  he  came  to  his  bedside,  and 
in  his  usual  quick  tone  of  voice  and  friendly  appella- 
lation  says:  "Johnnie,  do  you  know  me?"  "  I  think 
I  ought  to,"  was  the  quick  reply,  as  if  to  say,  I  have 
seen  you  in  many  places — in  childhood,  in  youth  and 
in    manhood;    your   character  has  impressed   me;  I 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  295 

can  never  forget  you,  even  here  in  the  valley  of  death  ; 
I  know  you  well. 

Day  before  his  death  his  youngest  son  called  to  see 
him.  He  did  not  make  himself  known,  so  little  of  life 
remained  to  the  father.  The  son  was  much  around 
the  bed  of  the  sinking  father.  It  was  discovered  that 
the  father  had  his  eyes  about  half  opened,  and  fixed 
upon  some  object  between  himself  and  the  window 
near  by.  At  this  moment  he  was  informed  that  this, 
his  youngest  son,  was- present  to  see  him.  He  replied 
very  pointedly:  "  Don't  you  reckon  I  see  him?" 

He  passed  Friday  night  quietly  sleeping  most  of  the 
time,  and  apparently  in  no  great  pain. 

WhenSaturday  morning  (January  24th,  1885)  arrived, 
it  was  evident  that  the  end  was  nigh.  Perfectly  quiet, 
the  limbs,  body  and  features  all  fixed, breathingslightly 
difficult,  but  gradually  growing  shorter  and  easier, 
seemingly  all  consciousness  gone,  and  here  for  six 
or  eight  hours,  as  if  by  nature's  power  alone,  he  lay 
unmoved,  not  a  word  or  struggle,  and  breathed  his 
last. 

The  death-bed  is  always  a  place  of  profound  thought. 
It  could  not  be  less  so  upon  the  death  of  one  w^ho  had 
lived  as  had  the  subject  of  this  work ;  one  who  had 
given  the  greater  part  of  his  life  work  for  the  good  of 
others,  and  who  had  so  often  been  heard  to  pray  for 
Divine  guidance  when  this  eventful  hourshouldcome, 
and  had  given  so  many  faithful  warnings  to  others  to 
prepare  for  the  sure  messenger  of  death.  How  many 
hearts  will  be  saddened  by  the  new^s  of  his  death  ; 
what  loss  will   be  felt!     That  voice  that  has  been  so 


296  The  Life  and  Times  of 

often  and  so  long  sounding  from  the  sacred  desk,  from 
the  door-way,  from  the  brush  arbor,  warning  sinners 
to  flee  the  wrath  to  come,  and  exhorting  christians  to 
duty,  is  now  still  in  death. 

Do  christians  know  each  other  in  heaven  ;  do  we  go 
at  once  to  God  when  we  die  ?  Who  is  there  to  greet 
father  when  he  arrives?  Christ  is  there,  the  holy  men 
of  old  of  whom  he  has  been  so  long  talking,  singing 
and  preaching  are  all  there,  and  during  the  sixty-nine 
years  lived  \ie  has  formed  the  acquaintance  of  many 
who  have  gone  before.  His  father  and  mother  are 
there;  some  brothers  and  four  dear  children  are  there  ; 
yea,  this  does  not  tell  all  ;  from  Shady  Grove,  Holly 
Spring,  Olive's  Chapel,  Bethany,  Pisgah,  Cedar  Fork, 
Salem,  Piny  Grove,  Pleasant  Grove,  Epheus,  Gary, 
New  Bethel,  and  Mt.  Moriah,  and  other  fields  of  labor, 
great  crowds  have  gone  during  his  sojourn  of  forty 
years  among  them.  He  will  meet  many  dear  friends 
there.     There  will  surely  be  a  happy  greeting. 

Such  are  some  of  the  thoughts  that  crowded  our 
mind.  While  there  were  thoughts  of  sadness,  there 
were  more  of  joy.  The  death  bed  of  a  godly  man  or 
woman  is  not  wholly  a  place  of  gloom.  We  can  here 
thank  God  for  heaven  and  for  salvation  through 
Jesus  Christ,  and  that  we  too  are  invited  to  come. 
Whoever  has  a  father  or  mother  in  heaven  must  feel 
strongly  drawn  theretoward. 

His  life,  his  character  was  so  deeply  impressed  upon 
the  hearts  of  those  with  whom  he  freely  commingled 
that  for  a  long  while  it  was  hard  to  realize  that  he  was 
dead.     It  is  not  difficult  now,  with  the  eye  of  the  mind, 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  297 

to  see  biin  zealously  pouring  forth  the  great  emotions 
of  his  soul  from  the  sacred  stand,  and  at  the  close  of 
his  discourse  see  him  straighten  himself  up  to  his  full 
heiglit,  lean  a  little  backward  and  join  in  singing  some 
favorite  hymn. 

The  family  were  soon  consulted  as  to  his  place  of 
burial,  funeral  services,  (fee.  It  was  their  pleasure  to 
have  his  remains  deposited  in  the  burial  ground  of 
the  Apex  Baptist  Church,  and  to  have  the  funeral  dis- 
course before  interment. 

Monday  was  a  cold,  bleak  day,  but  this  did  not 
keep  the  crowd  away.  Long  before  the  hour  of  service 
old  and  young  of  those  who  had  known  him  in  life 
were  gathering  in  the  village.  Some  who  had  never 
been  seen  here  before,  and  will  never  be  seen  here 
again,  were  present.  Many  were  anxious  to  get  a  last 
look  at  one  they  had  so  much  loved. 

The  following  ministering  brethren  were  present: 
Rev.  J.  C.  Wilson,  Rev.  Jessee  Howell,  Rev.  T.  W. 
Young,  Rev.  J.  M.  White,  Rev.  J.  M.  Holleman,  Rev. 
H.  W.  Norris,  Hev.  A.  D.  Hunter  and  Rev.  J.  W.  F. 
Rogers. 

The  funeral  discourse  was  preached  by  Rev.  T.  W. 
Young,  attended  with  masonic  honors.  Text  12th 
Daniel  3d  verse:  "And  they  that  be  wise  shall  shine 
as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament,  and  they  that  turn 
many  to  righteousness  as  the  stars  forever  and  ever." 

During  the  burial  service  the  hymn  so  often  used 
by  the  deceased  at  the  close  of  his  service,  and  perhaps 
the  favorite  of  his  life,  was  sung.  These  words  are  so 
much  a  part  of  him  we  here  give  them  : 


298  The  Life  and  Times  of 

" 'Tis  religion  that  can  give 
Sweetest  pleasures  while  we  live  ; 
'Tis  religion  must  supply 
Solid  comforts  when  we  die  ; 
After  death  its  joys  will  be 
Lasting  as  eternity. 
Be  thou,  living  God  my  friend, 
And  then  my  bliss  shall  never  end." 

Father  had  accepted  the  pastorate  of  Swift  Creek 
Church,  Wake  county,  for  the  year  1885;  accordingly, 
at  the  time  of  his  death  was  pastor  of  Swift  Creek, 
Cary,  Holly  Spring  and  New  Bethel  Churches. 


CHAPTER  XXV.  / 

With  no  desire  to  make  a  display  of  anything  father 
did  (for  such  in  his  lifetime  would  have  be^i  objec- 
tionable to  him),  but  as  a  matter  of  information,  and 
more  as  a  matter  of  encouragement  to  every  one  who 
is  engaged  in  doing  good,  and  who  may  read  this 
work,  I  give  here  some  probable  estimates  of  his  life 
work.  Leaving  out  whatever  he  ma^^  have  accom- 
plished in  youth  in  the  prayer  meeting  and  elsewhere 
we  have  seen  that'  his  first  appointment  to  preach  was 
in  1842,  although  not  licensed  for  the  space  of  five 
years  thereafter,  he  is  most  of  this  time  actively  in  the 
ministry,  and  for  tw^o  or  three  years  before  his  ordina- 
tion is  the  pastor  of  several  churches.  We  have  also 
seen  that  from  August,  1860,  to  August,  1865,  a  space 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  299 

of  five  years,)  that  he  was  idle  from  the  work.  These 
accounts  give  about  thirty-seven  years  of  active  life  in 
the  ministry.  It  is  not  unreasonable  to  say  that 
during  this  time  he  preached  5,000  discourses.  His 
usual  health  was  good ;  he  saw  but  few  idle  Saturdays 
and  Sundays,  and  often  preached  in  the  week  on 
funeral  and  revival  occasions. 

The  direct  results  of  his  work  we  have  no  means  of 
knowing.  Some  strong  and  influential  churches  were 
built  up  under  his  care.  He  passed  through  many  re- 
vival seasons,  where  the  ingathering  was  large.  In 
manv  instances  God  used  other  influences  to  bring 
about  these  results  besides  father,  yet  we  have  reason 
to  hope  that  many  souls  were  brought  into  the  fold 
through  him  as  an  instrumentality.  The  spiritual 
growth  and  development  of  church  members  is  by  no 
means  a  minor  part  of  work,  and  here  we  trust  a  good 
work  was  done,  and  thereby  the  Gospel  leaven  spread 
far  and  wide.  If  with  the  life  of  man  his  influence 
ended,  his  life  services  could  be  better  estimated,  but 
we  have  reason  to  believe  that  every  man  who  takes 
any  part  in  life,  either  for  good  or  bad,  sets  in  motion 
a  train  of  circumstances  which  move  on  and  on 
through  all  time.  Even  if  his  nation  should  perish,  his 
history,  a  part  of  which  he  has  helped  to  fashion,  lives 
and  has  its  influence  upon  those  which  survive.  In 
view  of  this  fact,  may  we  not  hope  that  the  life  of  our 
subject  was  what  he  ever  desired  it  to  be,  a  blessing  to 
humanity,  and  that  his  influence  for  good  may  live  on 
and  on  forever. 

We  give  the  following  as  an  expression  of  the  feel- 


300  The  Life  and  Times  of 

ing  existing  on  the  part  of  his  brethren  and  acqaint- 
ances,  also  the  expression  of  his  churches  after  his 
decease : 

Rev,  Johnson  Olive,  of  this  county,  one  of  the  most  popular 
and  beloved  ministers  of  the  State,  died  at  his  residence  in 
Apex,  on  Saturday  the  24th.  Brother  Olive  was  widely  known 
and  greatly  loved  by  his  brethren.  He  was  a  member  of  the 
North  Carolina  Baptist  Ministers'  Life  Association.  A  worthy, 
devoted  and  faithful  minister  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  A 
more  extended  notice  of  his  death  will  appear  next  week. — 
Biblical  Recorder. 


REV.  JOHNSON  OLIVE. 

This  remarkable  man  spent-  his  life  near  the  home  of  his 
birth,  and  was  scarcely  known,  except  by  reputation,  beyond 
the  limits  of  Wake  county.  Yet  he  numbered  among  his 
friends  a  large  majority  of  those  who  lived  in  his  county  and 
was  respected  and  loved  by  neighbors  and  friends  in  the  highest 
degree.  He  was  possessed  of  a  strong  natural  mind  and  a  will 
of  imperial  force.  In  appearance  he  was  striking  and  com- 
manding; always  self-possessed  and  reserved.  He  unbosomed 
himself  to  none  but  his  most  trusted  and  intimate  friends.  If 
he  had  grievances,  he  never  told  them  to  strangers  or  casual 
acquaintances.  He  kept  his  thoughts  to  himself,  and  acted 
independently  of  the  thoughts  or  opinions  of  others.  At  one 
period  of  his  life,  extending  through  three  or  four  years,  be 
retired  from  the  ministry,  and  remained  silent,  almost  speech- 
less. He  often  referred  to  this  as  "the  time  of  his  darkness.'? 
Notwithstanding  this,  he  was  before  and  after  the  period  re- 
ferred to,  a  most  genial  companion,  cheerful  and  witty,  yet  dig- 
nified and  guarded  in  his  words  and  actions.  As  a  man  he  was 
absolutely  honest  and  fair  in  his  every  word  and  deed.     He 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  301 

scorned  hypocrisy,  deceit  and  dishonesty.  His  word  was  mora 
than  a  written  bond.  As  a  friend  he  was  unselfish  and  oblig- 
ing, as  a  counsellor  he  was  safe.  It  was  these  traits  of  char- 
acter that  gave  him  his  position  and  influence  among  men,  and 
caused  them  to  consult  him  and  trust  him  in  temporal  as  well 
as  in  spiritual  matters. 

Bro.  Olive  was  an  able  minister  of  the  gospel.  Without 
ambition  for  place  or  power,  he  studied  to  rightly  divide  the 
Word  and  benefit  his  hearers.  His  sermons  were  for  the  in- 
struction of  the  people,  not  to  please  them.  What  he  saw 
and  knew  he  testified  to.  He  held  a  commission  from  the 
Master,  and  or  '.ered  all  his  words  and  actions  by  it.  His 
preaching  was  often  in  power  and  demonstration  of  the  Spirit. 
The  people  heard  him  gladly.  The  church  that  called  him  to 
its  pastorate  and  asked  for  his  ordination  in  1847,  retained  his 
services  to  the  end  of  his  pilgrimage.  His  first  and  last  ser- 
mons were  preached  in  the  same  pulpit. 

Our  brother  was  not  afraid  of  death;  he  waited  his  ap- 
pointed time;  in  his  sixty-ninth' year  it  came,  and  he  spent 
Sunday,  the  25th  of  January,  amid  the  light  and  joy  of  heaven, 
where  there  is  no  night,  and  where  the  weary  are  at  rest. 

The  following  particulars  of  his  last  hours  are  furnished  by 
one  who  was  with  him  through  his  sickness  : 

"  For  several  years  it  has  been  perceptible  that  his  physical 
strength  was  failing.  Exposure  and  articles  of  diet  affected 
him  as  they  did  not  in  former  years.  On  the  evening  of  Jan- 
uary 15th  he  was  attacked  with  severe  pain  in  his  right  side. 
During  the  early  part  of  the  night  he  suffered  much,  but  grew 
quiet  later  in  the  night.  Next  day  it  was  manifest  that  he  had 
lost  much  of  his  strength  from  the  attack  the  evening  before. 
He  was  cheerful,  patient  and  lesigned  throughout  his  entire 
illness. 

"During  his  illness  he  often  repeated  the  language  of  David 
while  in  the  cave  of  Adullam:  'Oh  that  one  would  give  me 
drink  of  the  water  of  the  well  of  Bethlehem,  which  is  by  the 
gate.'  He  was  conscious  up  to  the  morning  of  his  death  and 
knew  all  his  friends  who  called  to  see  him.     Yet  from  prostra- 


302  The  Life  and  Times  of 

tion  he  talked  but  little  during  the  last  three  days  of  his  life. 
He  said  but  little  about  dying.  One  coming  into  his  presence 
was  made  to  feel  that  he  had  made  arrangements  for  the  su- 
preme struggle  before  it  came.  He  lived  ten  days  after  his 
attack.  During  the  last  few  days  of  his  life  he  seemed  to  suffer 
almost  no  pain.  He  died  at  4  o'clock  Saturday,  January  24th, 
was  buried  on  Monday  in  the  church  grave  yard  at  Apex.  The 
funeral  services  were  conducted  by  Rev.  Dr.  T.  W.  Young. — 
Biblical  Recorder  Editorial. 


THE  LATE  REV.  JOHNSON  OLIVE. 

In  the  history  of  the  Raleigh  Baptist  Association,  for  the 
last  twenty  years,  no  name,  either  as  a  minister  or  lay  mem- 
ber, will  appear  more  prominent  than  the  name  of  Johnson 
Olive.  It  was  a  name  familiar  to  children,  to  the  household, 
to  members  of  the  churches,  to  ministers  and  to  the  masses. 

One  great  secret  of  Bro.  Olive's  life  was  his  magnanimity  of 
soul.  He  scorned  that  which  was  low,  sordid  and  mean  ;  yet 
he  did  it  not  by  bitter,  harsh  or  repulsive  protest,  but  rather 
by  gentle,  yet  pointed,  pleasant,  forcible  and  instructive  dec- 
laration. It  was  his  pleasant  demeanor,  genial  disposition 
and  sympathy  that  elevated  him  in  the  estimation  of  the  peo- 
ple. Of  a  forgiving  disposition,  always  holding  the  olive 
branch  in  his  hand,  he  walked  in  and  out  as  a  sweet  messenger 
of  peace.  That  which  was  praiseworthy,  tending  to  elevate 
the  standard  of  usefulness — social  and  moral — was  to  him  a 
feast  of  reason  and  flow  of  soul.  Hence  it  may  be  said  of 
him,  he  served  his  generation,  marking  out  and  delineating 
the  true  aim  of  life,  that  of  doing  good  and  getting  good. 

As  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  he  was  faithful  and  efficient; 
devoted  to  his  calling,  loving  his  flock  and  pleading  earnestly 
with  the  unbeliever  for  the  conversion  of  his  soul.  He  loved 
to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  people,  and  although  he  W9,s  not 
strictly  textual,  nevertheless  he  deviated  not  from  the  essence, 


Rev.  Johnson   Olive.  303 

the  marrow  and  the  truth  of  the  gospel.  In  his  preaching  he 
would  take  a  wide  range  of  thought;  from  the  mountain  top, 
the  hill  side,  the  valley,  the  running  brook,  the  cool  spring,  the 
everlasting  doctrines  of  the  gospel  distilled  its  sweetness  over 
all.  The  people  loved  to  hear  him  preach,  and  the  churches 
generally  were  anxious  to  secure  his  pastoral  labors.  He  had 
so  thoroughly  identified  himself  with  the  churches  of  the 
Raleigh  Association  that  he  was  really  a  part  or  parcel  of  that 
body.  He  served  as  an  ordained  minister,  principally,  in  the 
limits  of  the  Raleigh  Association  for  thirty-seven  years.  Hence 
many  received  baptism  at  his  hands,  many  received  the  right 
hand  of  fellowship  in  behalf  of  the  church,  and  many  ser- 
mons fell  from  his  lips.  Especially  did  he  seem  to  be  a  fa- 
vorite in  preaching  funeral  sermons.  He  had  a  poetical  genius, 
and  some  of  his  sacred  poetry  will  be  sung  long  after  his  bones 
have  returned  to  dust. 

Bro.  Olive  was  not  communicative,  gave  little  unsolicited 
advice,  said  little  about  grievances,  imparted  little  of  uncalled 
for  or  unexpected  information.  He  was  communicative  in  the 
way  of  usefulness.  You  could  easily  locate  him  when  he  took 
a  stand  in  a  deliberative  body.  He  was  firm,  considerate  and 
cautious  in  debate,  always  keeping  the  landmark  before  him 
and  pressing  to  the  centre.  He  was  witty  and  sarcastic — yet 
his  sarcasm  was  so  tempered  by  his  sweet  nature  tha.t  they  were 
really  enjoyed. 

This  brother  has  "  served  his  generation  by  the  will  of  God 
and  has  fallen  on  sleep,"  a  slev^.p  from  which  none  ever  wak^ 
to  weep,  who  died  in  the  arms  of  Jesus.  He  has  passed  from 
earth  to  heaven.  His  life's  record  is  a  memorial  of  his  love  to 
his  Maker's  cause.  He  died,  after  a  few  days  illness,  in  his 
sixty  ninth  year,  in  the  embrace  of  his  family.'  His  funeral 
services  were  attended  by  an  unusually  large  congregation, 
and  so  anxious  were  they  to  see  his,  last  remains,  both  white 
and  black,  that  the  pressure  was  so  great  as  to^almost  forbid 
an  entrance  to  the  room  where  he  lay.  His  funeral  services 
were  conducted  at  the  Apex  Baptist  church  on  January  24th, 
by  Rev.  Dr.  T.  W.  Young,  from  Daliiel  12th  chapter  3d  verse : 


304  The  Life  and  Times  of 

**And  they  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the 
firmament :  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  the 
stars  forever  and  ever."  Precious  promise,  glorious  recom- 
pense. His  body  was  laid  to  its  last  resting  place  by  the  Ma- 
sonic fraternity  in  the  church  graveyard  at  Apex,  N.  C.  And 
now  farewell  for  a  little  while,  and  as  the  wave-beat  of  fare- 
well floats  along  down  the  passage  of  time,  may  it  sparkle 
into  a  welcome !  welcome !  upon  the  other  shore.  T.  W.  Y. 
In  Biblical  Recorder^  February  8th,  1885. 


"B.  C.  B."  IN  BIBLICAL  RECORDER. 

We  regret  so  much  the  loss  of  our  dear  brother.  Rev.  John- 
son OUve,  who  was  loved  by  many,  especially  those  to  whom 
he  preached.  He  wore  but  one  face  to  his  hearers,  and  a 
more  christian-like  countenance  we  never  saw.  Under  the 
sound  of  his  matchless  voice  I  was  converted.  Can  I  forget 
the  day  ?  No,  never,  never.  He  was  indeed  a  remarkable 
man.  We  hope  some  day  (by  God's  sustaining  hand)  to  meet 
brother  Olive  across  the  chilling  river,  where  we  can  walk  with 
him  the  crystal  pavement  of  yonder  blissful  world.  He  has  paid 
the  debt  we  all  must  pay;  sooner  or  later  death  will  knock  at 
our  door;  will  we  be  ready  or  not  ?  God  help  us  to  live  such 
a  life,  so  we  can  walk  that  crystal  pavement.  We  will  not 
forget  the  dear  wife.     God  comfort  her  in  her  lonely  hours. 


RESOLUTIONS  OF  RESPECT. 

Shady  Grove  Church,  Raleigh  Association,  in  memory  of 
Rev.  Johnson  Olive,  who  died  at  his  residence  in  Apex,  N.  C, 
on  the  24th  of  January,  1885,  in  the  69th  year  of  his  age, 
submits  the  following : 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  305 

Whereas,  It  has  pleased  the  Allwise  Ruler  of  the  universe 
to  take  from  his  earthly  career  our  much  beloved  brother,  and 
as  he  was  a  member  of  our  church  from  the  time  he  was 
baptized  (which  was  in  his  early  life),  up  to  his  death,  having 
been  reared  in  this  community,  and  as  he  was  pastor  of 
this,  his  mother  church,  for  many  years;  therefore  be  it 

Resolved,  1st.  That  it  is  with  much  sorrow  that  we  have 
to  take  our  leave  of  him  ;  and  yet  we  are  profoundly  grate- 
ful that  his  faith  was  strong  in  life,  failing  him  not  in  death. 

2d.  That  we  will  ever  remember  with  gratitude  his  zeal  as 
a  christian,  his  great  usefulness  and  efficiency  as  a  preacher 
of  the  Gospel  of  the  Son  of  God,  believing  also  that  he  is 
gone  to  that  rest  that  remaineth  for  the  righteous. 

3d.  That  it  be  our  purpose  in  the  future  to  follow  him  as  he 
followed  Christ. 

4th.  That  we  do  hereby  tender  to  his  bereaved  widow  our 
sympathy  in  this  her  great  affliction. 

5th.  That  these  resolutions  be  sent  to  the  Biblibal  Recorder, 
with  request  to  publish,  be  placed  on  our  church-book,  and 
a  copy  be  sent  to  his  widow.  B.  B.  Freeman, 

S.  H.  Wilson, 
A.  C.  Richardson, 
Committee. 


At  a  conference  of  Gary  Baptist  Church,  held  on  Febru- 
ary 28th,  1885,  it  was  resolved  to  place  upon  the  records  of 
the  church  an  expression  of  our  deep  sorrow  at  the  loss,  by 
death,  of  our  beloved  pastor,  Johnson  Olive,  and  while  we 
sorrow  and  realize  our  loss,  we  know  it  to  be  his  eternal 
gain.  There  has  been  no  man  in  the  community  more  be- 
loved and  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  duty  as  pastor,  preacher, 
neighbor  and  friend ;  and  we  can  truly  say,  he  has  fought  a 
good  fight  and  finished  the  work  of  his  Master,  and  now 
wears  the  crown.  May  we  follow  his  example  as  he  fol- 
lowed Christ  Jesus. 


306  The  Life  and  Times  of 

Resolved,  That  a  copy  of  these  proceedings  be  sent  to  the 
family  of  our  brother,  and  they  also  be  published  in  the 
Biblical  Recorder.  C.  H.  Clarke, 

Sim.  Holleman, 

February  28,  1885,  Committee, 


Whereas,  We,  the  members  of  the  Holly  Spring  Bap- 
tist Church,  realize  that  in  the  death  of  our  beloved  pas- 
tor, Rev.  Johnson  Olive,  we  have  been  greatly  bereaved ;  so 
long  and  so  faithfully  has  he  gone  in  and  out  before  us  as 
our  shepherd,  that  we  feel  peculiarly  afflicted  now  that  he 
is  gone.  With  us  he  began  his  ministry;  to  us  he  preached 
his  last  sermon,  and  to  many  of  us  his  last  seemed  his  best. 
He  was  a  discreet  pastor,  a  wise  counsellor,  a  good  preacher, 
a  lovely  christian.  He  now  rests  from  his  labors  and  his 
works  follow  him.  The  battle  is  fought,  the  victory  won,  the 
warfare  ended.  Ere  the  body  was  cold  we  doubt  not  the 
spirit  heard  from  his  Lord:  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful 
servant."  Let  us,  his  fiock,  remember  his  teachings,  follow 
his  examples,  that  we  may  meet  him  in  "  The  Sweet  Bye  and 
Bye." 

Resolved,  That  a  copy  of  this  be-  spread  on  our  minutes,  a 
copy  be  sent  to  his  bereaved  family,  assuring  them  of  our 
sympathy  in  this  their  sore  affliction,  and  that  a  copy  be  sent 
to  the  Biblical  Recorder.  J;  M.  White, 

D.  B.  Holland, 
J.  D.  Marcom, 

Committee. 


In  the  dispensation  of  an  Allwise  Providence  God  has  seen 
fit  to  take  from  our  midst  our  much  beloved  and  honored  pas- 
tor, Rev.  Johnson  Olive,  who  died  at  his  late  residence  in 
Apex,  on  January  24th,  1885,   after  several  days  of  patient 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  307 

suffering,  leaving  behind  him  the  companion  of  his  declining 
years,  and  four  children,  three  sons  and  one  daughter. 

He  served  us  faithfully  in  a  ministerial  capacity  for  many 
years,  endearing  himself  to  all  with  whom  he  associated,  by 
his  genial  and  pleasant  manners.  But  in  no  place  did  he  ap- 
pear more  attractive  than  in  the  pulpit,  proclaiming  the  ever- 
lasting Gospel  of  Christ  to  an  attentive  and  listening  congre- 
gation, encouraging  the  christian,  and  with  much  pathos  in 
his  gentle  manner,  warning  the  sinner  to  be  reconciled  to 
God. 

And  while  we  are  lamenting  the  recent  loss  we  have  sus- 
tained in  this  sad  bereavement,  we  bow  in  child-like  and  hum- 
ble submission,  believing  that  he  is  now  a  seraph  in  a  brighter 
and  happier  clime,  enjoying  the  full  fruition  of  a  blissful 
eternity,  an  everlasting  joy,  of  which  he  so  vividly  and  beau- 
tifully spoke  while  here  on  earth. 

At  a  called  meeting  of  the  church  at  New  Bethel,  on  Sat- 
urday, February  28th,  the  following  resolution  was  unani- 
mously adopted : 

Resolved,  That  a  copy  of  this  resolution  be  sent  to  the 
family  of  the  deceased,  that  a  copy  be  placed  on  our  church- 
book,  also  that  a  copy  be  sent  to  the  Biblical  Recorder  for 
publication.  '  •      Rom.  Sturdevant, 

John  S.  Johns, 

Committee. 


Biographical  sketch,  read  before  the  Raleigh  Asso- 
ciation  at  its  session   with  Inwood   Church,  October, 

1885. 

ELDER  JOHNSON  OLIVE 

was  born  in  Chatham  county,  North  Carolina,  June  7th,  1816. 
His  boyhood  was  spent  on  a  farm,  attending,  at  intervals,  such 
primary  schools  as  the  neighborhood  afforded.  During  his 
youth  he  often  felt  concerned  for  his  soul's  salvation.     In  that 


308  The  Life  and  Times  of 

day  camp-meetings  were  quite  common.  He  attended  one  at 
Buckhorn,  Chatham  county,  in  1837.  Here  he  repented  and 
believed,  and  was  soon  after  baptized  by  Elder  P.  W.  Dowd, 
a  member  of  Shady  Grove  Church.  In  the  neighborhood 
prayer-meetings  he  first  began  to  lead  in  public  prayer — then 
in  the  church.  Having  a  good  voice  for  singing,  and  being 
otherwise  gifted,  his  pastor,  Elder  Dowd,  took  special  interest 
in  him,  urging  him  to  go  to  school  and  prepare  himself  for 
future  usefulness,  not  hinting  that  some  day  he  might  want  to 
preach.  Taking  his  pastor's  advice,  he  entered  Thompson's 
Academy  (George  W.  Thompson,  Principal),  in  the  northern 
part  of  Wake  county.  He  also  attended  Pleasant  Hill  Acad- 
emy, in  Chatham  county,  Baxter  Clegg,  Principal.  After 
thus  having  been  at  school  some  time,  he  returned  home.  He 
soon  began  to  teach  in  the  family  of  his  old  pastor,  in  1841. 
Elder  Dowd  and  wife  were  exceedingly  kind  to  him  and  inter- 
ested in  him,  which  begot  in  him  a  life-long  attachment  for 
them.  -  . 

During  this  year  (1841),  he  married  Martha  IJunter,  daugh- 
ter of  Alsey  Hunter,  of  Wake  county,  and  settled  near  where 
Olivers  Chapel  now  is,  where  for  a  time  he  engaged  in  farm- 
ing. During  this  time  he  was  much  impressed  and  concerned 
about  his  duty  to  enter  the  ministry.  He  felt  that  he  must 
do  something  more  than  he  was  doing.  The  great  question  in 
his  mind  was,  "Lord,  what  wilt  Jbhou  have  me  to  do?"  He 
began  to  make  appointments  for  "religious  services"  at 
the  neighboring  churches. 

He  talked  with  much  freedom  and  efiect.  Pastors  around 
him  began  to  have  him  fill  their  appointments.  In  after  life 
he  often  spoke  of  this  period,  and  always  made  most  affection- 
ate allusions  to  Elders  Dowd,  James  Dennis  and  Jesse  Howell. 
He  was  licensed  to  preach  soon,'  and  five  years  later,  by  re- 
quest of  his  church,  he  was  ordained  at  the  Raleigh  Associa- 
tion, meeting  at  Cumberland  Union  Church  (now  in  Harnett) , 
in  the  year  1847.  Ministers  present  :  John  Purefoy,  James  S. 
Purefoy,  William  Jones,  David  Williams,  S.  Senter,  Ezekiel 
Holland,  James  Dennis  and  Robert  J.  Dennis.     He  then  took 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  309 

charge  of  and  held  the  pastorate  for  a  number  of  years  of  the 
churches  at  Shady  Grove,  Mt.  Pisgah,  Holly  Spring  and  Cedar 
Fork. 

He  was  very  active  in  the  ministry  till  1861 ;  he  then  was 
afflicted  with  "  spiritual  darkness" — such  he  called  it.  His 
many  friends  were  much  saddened  by  it,  for  he  ceased  to 
preach  entirely.  Some  thought  he  had  lost  his  mind,  but  he 
always  insisted  that  such  was  not  the  case;  that  his  judgment, 
memory,  mental  powers,  all  were  the  same  as  ever.  He  said 
for  some  purpose  the  Lord  had  withdrawn  spiritual  light  from 
him ;  that  he  could  not  hold  communion  with  God  as  he  had 
done  before,  and  as  he  did  afterwards.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he 
was  for  nearly  four  years  a  very  miserable  man.  Gradually 
the  darkness  began  to  lift,  and  light  and  joy  began  to  break 
in  upon  his  spirit.  He  again,  in  1865,  entered  actively  upon 
his  ministry,  and  remained  at  his  post  till  the  Master  called 
him  home  to  rest.  This  took  place  at  his  new  home  in  Apex, 
January  24th,  1885.  At  the  time  of  his  death  he  was  pastor  of 
Gary,  Holly  Springs,  Swift  Creek  and  New  Bethel  churches. 
His  last  sermon  was  at  Holly  Springs,  from  the  text,  Phil.  2 : 
16.,  "Holding  forth  the  word  of  life,  that  I  may  rejoice  in  the 
day  of  Christ  that  I  have  not  run  in  vain,  neither  labored  in 
vain  "  It  seems  almost  prophetic.  Many  thought  it  his  best 
sermon.  His  body  lies  in  the  village  and  church  burying- 
ground  at  Apex,  ]Sf.  C.  J.  M.  White. 


REV.  JOHNSON  OLIVE'S  ATTACHMENT  TO  CHILDREN. 

In  contemplating  the  remarks  of  Rev.  Johnson  Olive  to  a 
young  minister  upon  the  occasion  of  his  ordination,  we  very 
readily  conclude  that  one  of  the  great  secrets  of  his  success  in 
life,  in  drawing  the  masses  to  him,  and  gaining  the  confidence 
of  the  people,  was  his  peculiar  attachment  to  and  fondness  for 
the  little  ones  with  whom  he  met.  His  admonition  to  that 
young  brother  just  entering  upon  his  great  life-work  was  quite 


310  The  Life  and  Times  of 

impressive,  illustrating  how  first  impressions  are  most  lasting, 
and  how  in  early  years  the  taking  by  the  hand  a  little  boy  or 
girl  would  inspire  that  confidence  and  esteem  which  in  after 
years  may  be  necessary  to  approach  the  youth  successfully  on 
the  all-important  subject  of  the  soul's  salvation.  Our  ven- 
erable brother  had  passed  a  long  and  useful  life  throwing  out 
those  influences  on  the  right  and  on  the  left,  until  he  was 
surrounded  by  a  generation  whose  confidence  he  entirely  pos- 
sessed, and  who  only  knew  him  best  to  love  him  most.  Thus 
he  exhorted  the  young  brother  just,  ordained  not  to  forget 
the  little  folks  in  his  efforts  to  be  instrumental  in  saving 
souls.  A.  B.  F. 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  311 


FATHER  AS  I  SAW  HIM. 


Under  this  head  we  will  close  the  present  work.  It 
gives  opportunity  to  bring  in  some  facts  which  we 
could  not  in  the  body  of  the  work.  One  object  in  byo- 
graphical  works  is  to  preserve  the  deeds  and  charac- 
ters of  men  who  have  made  themselves  famous,  to  the 
end  that  others  may  profit  by  their  lives. 

Father  was  not  without  faults.  "  There  is  not  a  per- 
fect man  on  earth  that  doeth  good  and  sinneth  not." 
Yet  it  is  but  just  to  say,  his  faults  were  few  and  his 
virtues  many. 

As  has  been  intimated,  he  doubtless  owed  much  of 
his  success  in  life  to  his  fondness  for  children  and  the 
consideiation  he  gave  them.  His  love  for  them  was 
natural,  and  whateveT  profit  it  availed  him  in  life  was 
more  the  result  of  a  natural  trait  of  character  than  the 
purpose  he  had  in  view.  He  teased  them,  but  did  not 
fret  them.  He  was  ever  cautious  not  to  disappoint 
them,  even  in  little  matters,  the  gentle,  persuasive 
means  which  he  represents  as  ever  being  so  effectual 
with  himself,  were  often  the  great  secrets  of  his  success 
with  others. 

I  do  not  know  anything  connected  with  his  inter- 
course with  his  fellow-men  that  gave  him  more  perma- 
nent hold  upon  their  confidence  than  his  firm  and 
implicit  devotion  to  truth,  his  freedom  from  specula- 
tion in  trade,  his  promptness  towards  his  financial  obli 


312  The  Life  and  Times  of 

gations.  It  differed  not  where  he  went  or  how  large 
his  congregatioiis,  there  were  none  to  say,  "  he  owes 
me  and  will  not  pay;  he  has  forfeited  his  obligation 
to  nae;  he  can  preach  but  he  will  come  down  out  of 
that  stand  and  cheat  you."  No  such  feelings  or 
thoughts  were  entertained.  Gossiping,  and  dissec- 
ting of  character  were  not  countenanced  by  him.  Not- 
withstanding many  of  his  flock  conversed  freely  with 
him  about  any  and  all  matters,  I  do  not  know  of  an 
instance  where  the  least  confusion  ever  arose  out  of 
the  confidence  thus  bestowed.  He  never  accumulated 
wealth;  was  economical,  but  had  little  or  no  desire  to 
be  wealthy.  Yet  in  all  his  life  he  kne-w  nothing  of 
real  want.  If  he  lacked,  he  had  but  to  make  it  known 
and  many  among  his  acquaintances  w^ere  ready  to  re- 
spond. His  estimate  of  the  things  of  this  life  were 
formed  with  judgment,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to 
find  a  man  w^ho  bore  success  better  than  he.  His 
presence  gave  life  and  light  to  his  own  home  and  to 
the  homes  of  others.  He  was  ever  a  welcome  visitor 
to  those  who  knew  him. 

A  true  interpretation  to  the  troubles  that  came  upon 
him  in  1860  we  are  not  able  to  give.  The  opinions  of 
his  friends  widely  differ.  There  were  no  external 
causes  which  could  possibly  have  led  to  it.  The  rela- 
tion existing  between  himself  and  family  w^as  always 
pleasant.  The  public  had  lost  no  interest  in  him. 
There  were  no  troubles  in  existence  with  any  one ;  his 
means  of  support  were  fair,  his  decline  into  this  state 
was  as  gradual  as  his  growth  out  of  it.  In  some  way 
he  became  alarmed  about  his  spiritual  condition  ;  he 


Rev.  Johnson  Olive.  313 

did  not  feel  that  unction  of  soul  that  he  had  formerly 
experienced.  This  continued  from  day  to  day,  week 
to  week.  In  his  efforts  to  preach  or  pray  he  had  the 
words  and  the  form,  but  not  the  spirit.  This  was  his 
state  for  near  five  years.  He  often  said  he  could  have 
preached  at  any  time,  but  without  the  spirit.  Under 
this  feeling  he  became  alarmed  about  the  salvation  of 
his  soul,  and  concluded  that  he  knew  nothing  of  the 
new  birth  ;  that  during  his  entire  ministerial  life  he 
had  been  as  the  blind  leading  the  blind.  The  anguish 
of  soul  and  the  torture  of  mind  produced  by  this  be- 
lief and  these  feelings  were  surely  akin  to  the  pangs  of 
hell.  He  went  to  and  fro  seeking  rest  and  finding 
none,  and  at  length  desired  to  end  his  miserable  exis- 
tence. 

We  must  feel  that  the  hand  of  God  alone  shielded 
him,  for  he  was  not  lacking  in  courage,  and  those  who 
knew  his  disposition  would  naturally  expect  when  he 
made  up  his  mind  so  fully  upon  this  subject  that  death 
would  have  followed.  He  always  felt  that  God's  hand 
alone  saved  him.  In  the  early  stages  of  his  trouble  he 
sometimes  expressed  a  fear  that  a  judgment  would  be 
sent  upon  him  and  all  he  had  in  consequence  of  his 
course.  With  this  exception  not  a  strange  or  idle 
word  fell  from  his  lips  during  this  whole  period  upon 
any  subject  save  those  connected  with  himself.  He 
formed  strange  conclusions  about  himself  and  what  he 
must  do,  yet  upon  any  and  all  other  questions  his 
judgment  was  good.  When  his  soul  was  finally  freed 
from  these  troubles,  he  was  like  the  bird  freed  from 
the  cage,  he  realized  the  change,  though  gradual,  very 


314  The  Life  and  Times  of 

sensibly.  As  his  impressions  to  preach  came  on  he 
often  remarked  that  he  would  preach  if  he  had  to 
preach  to  the  trees. 

As  he  preached  a  great  many  funerals  during  his 
life  it  may  be  the  impression  of  some  that  he  flattered 
the  name  of  the  dead  on  such  occasions.  This  was 
not  the  case.  He  often  left  the  audience  to  feel  that 
the  man  or  woman  was  lost  whose  funeral  sermon  he 
preached.  He  generally  taught  that  men  die  as  they 
live,  and  that  if  he  were  asked  what  he  thought  of  the 
prospects  of  any  one  for  the  future  life,  he  would  esti- 
mate that  by  the  life  they  lived  here. 

He  died  a  few  months  before  he  reached  his  three- 
score and  ten.  His  last  days  appeared  to  be  his  best 
days.  Although  he  left  no  immediate  d}ing  message, 
his  dying  messages  are  yet  ringing  in  the  ears  of  many. 
He  had  not  waited  for  this  critical  hour  but  had  all 
along  through  'his  life  given  faithful  warnings,  and 
was  now  permitted  to  die  in  peace. 


